Practical Criticism: A Study Of Literary Judgment

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PRACTICAL CRITICISM A

Study of

LITERARY JUDGMENT

I.

A.

RICHARDS

Fellow of Magdalene College Cambridge Author of " Principles of Literary Criticism ,

'

LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & BROADWAY HOUSE:

68-74

1930

CO. LTD.

CARTER LANE,

E.G.

First Edition

.

.

.

.

.

Second Impression (with a few alterations]

PRINTED

THK EDINBURGH

PRESS, 9

IN

AND

.

1929 1930

GREAT BRITAIN BY II YOUNG STREET, EDINBURGH.

TO MY COLLABORATORS WHETHER THEIR WORK APPEARS IN THESE PAGES OR

NOT

PREFACE A

CONVENIENT arrangement for the parts of this book has not been easy to find. A friendly reader Those who are curious will, I think, soon see why. to discern what motives prompted me to write it will be satisfied most quickly if they begin by glancing through Part IV, which might indeed have been placed as an Introduction. The length of Part II, and a certain unavoidable monotony, may prove a stumbling-block. I have included very little there, however, that I do not discuss again in Part III, and it need not be read

through continuously. A reader who feels some impatience will prudently pass on at once to my attempted elucidations, returning to consult the facts when a renewed contact with actuality is desired. The later chapters of Part III will be found to have more general interest than the earlier. I am deeply indebted to the living authors of some of the poems I have used for their permission to a permission which, in view of the print them ;

peculiar conditions of this experiment, witnesses to no slight generosity of spirit. Some contemporary poems were necessary for my purpose, to avoid the '

*

dated styles would introduce perplexities which here. But in making the selection I had originally no thought of publication. The interest of the material supplied me by my commentators and the desire that as many types of poetry as possible should be represented have been the only reasons for my choice.

But in those instances in which Vll

I

have not

PREFACE

viii

been able to form a high opinion of the poems I must ask the forgiveness of the authors and plead as excuse a motive which we have in common, the advancement of poetry. My acknowledgments are due also to the publishers of these poems. Details of these obligations will be found in Appendix C, in which I have hidden away, as far as I could, particulars as to the authorship

and date of the poems. interest of these pages will

For obvious reasons the be enhanced if the reader

remains unaware of the authorship of the poems own opinions of them have been formed and tested by comparison with the many other I would, therefore, earnestly opinions here given. counsel an intending reader not to consult Appendix until his

C

until a late stage in his reading. I.

CAMBRIDGE, April 1929.

A.

R

OSMANIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Call No.

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This book should be returned on or before the date

last

marked below.

CONTENTS PART

I

INTRODUCTORY PA(,B

The

conditions of the experiment ; Its aims ; Field-work in The theory of interpretation, 9. comparative ideology, 6. Intellectual and emotional navigation, 1 1. Critical principles: The indemonstrability of values, 12. The ten difficulties of

criticism, 13-18.

PART

II

DOCUMENTATION

POEM

.........

I

Doctrine in poetry. Metrical

Its expression,

movements,

23.

Flabby

20

Noble thoughts, 22. Truth thoughts, 24.

21.

:

Mnemonic irrelevancies eternity, perception, 25. socialism, the heart, 27. American idiom: 'an inspirational

temporal bit

POEM

',

Suggestion as falling

28.

~

:

in love, 29.

II

32

Rhyming,

Other

tests

for

'Messages', 36. poetry, 35. Moral qualms, 37. Renderings, 38. Correspondences of sound and sense, 39. Japanese gardening, 40.

POEM

III

34.

.........

42

Stock Misunderstanding, 43. Anti-religious icaction, 44. Technical Moral objections, 46. responses and metre, 45. presuppositions and arhitiary renderings, 47. The sound alone :

pictures in poetry, 49.

Mixed metaphor,

50.

POEM IV

52

Mental prisms,

53.

One man's meat

another's

poison, 54.

The correspondence personalties,

.........

rhythm, 58.

POEM

V

of form and content, 55. Alternating The ascribed 'Difference in taste', 57. Stock responses, 60. 56.

A splendid thought Incoherence in poetry, 64. Obscurity, 63. The 'atmosphere of approach', 66. impossible to grasp, 65. The stock-subject, 69. Immortal beauty, 68. Timidity, 67 Sonnet form, 7<;. Tricks of style, 72. Beliefs in poetry, 70. Incapacity to construe, 76. resonances, 78,

Sincerity and date, 77.

ix

Vacuous

62

CONTENTS PAGE

POEM VI

80

Mental cleavage, prehension, 85. Analysis, 89.

Alternative readings, 82. Blank incomThe * family constellation ', 87. Excuses, 86 81.

POEM VII

92 *

Pathetic Two-way prejudices, 93. Sincerity, 94 The Cathedral feeling, 96. Sententiousness, 98

Unity and associations, 100.

fallacies', 96.

Uplift, 99.

Nature-poetry, 101.

POEM VIII

104

Music in poetry, 106. Sentimentality and nausea tion, 105. Metaphor, 107. Popular songs, 108. Preconceptions, 109. Stock rhythms, 1 10. Verse form, in. Closeness of reading, 1 1 2, 1 Carelessness v. Appalling risk of sentimentality', 113. The acceptance struggle, 115. Private 114. insincerity, poetry, 116.

POEM IX

118

Occasional poetry, publicanism, 121.

reroyalism, 120 The drink problem, 122. Matter and movement: communicative efficiency, 124. Colour, 125. Exhilaration. 126. Metaphor, 127. Drama, 127. A problem

119.

Irrelevancies

:

;

of stock responses, 128.

POEM

X

130

Mnemonic

pulls,

131.

Visualisation,

132.

Unpleasant

Technical presuppositions: images, 133. Inhumanity, 134. Onomugly and delicate words, 134. Cacophony, 135. Prosaicisms, 138. atopceia, 136. Represented motion, 137.

Romanticism, 139. Nonsense, 140. Shallow moralising, 143.

Change

of tone,

141,

POEM XI

146

Rapture, 147. Personal emotion, 148. Illicit expectations, 148. Poetic diction, 150. Strained Logic, 149. Obscurity, 149. Bareness and balanced sanity, 152. The middle trash, 151. kind of writing, 153.

POEM XII

154 *

clouds, 155. Symbolists, 155. Crystallisation ': falling in love, 156. Pathetic fallacy, 157. Chemist's poetry, 158. Prosody, 158. Hypnotic movement, 160. Swoon-reading, 161.

Rumbling

POEM XIII

.

.162

Double action of stock responses, 163. Death the leveller, 164. 'Was what Christian charity?' 165. The mystery of the slaves, 166.

Joanna

Conjectures, 167. Southcott's Gladstone

The monument problem,

bag, 169. Sense 171.

Impudent

and sound, 170. Prosody, 'Rude' in what sense? Sanctimonious cliches 173. Fatuous solemnity, 174. Urbanity, 175. Humour, 176.

mentality,

168. senti-

172. 173.

CONTENTS

PART

III

ANALYSIS CHAPTER

I.

THE FOUR KINDS OF MEANING

179

.

The

ten difficulties of criticism. The fundamental difficulty making out the meaning, 180. Four aspects of meaning sense, Relative subordinations of these feeling, tone, intention, 181. in scientific writings, 183; in popularisation, 184; in political speeches, 185 ; in conversation, 185. Statements in poetry, 186. Emotion criticism, 188. :

:

:

CHAPTER

II.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

.

189

.

The

Causes of misunderstanding, 189.

distraction of metre, 190. Intuitive versus over-literal reading, 191. Literalism and Poetic liberty, 194. Mixture in metaphor, 196. metaphor, 192. Personification, 198; reasons for, 199; advantages of, 200; dangers of, 201. Critical comparisons, 201. The diversity of

aims

CHAPTER

in poetry, 203.

III.

SENSE AND FEELING

Interferences

.

.205

.

between kinds of meaning, 205. Tone in as an index to sense of proportion ', 207. *

206 ; Sense and feeling: three types of interrelation, 210. The pull of the context, 212; exerted in two ways: directly between feelings, indirectly through sense, 213. Pre-analytic apprehenMethods of improving apprehension, 216. Verbal sion, 214. poetry,

for sense and feeling, 217. The dictionary, 218. Definition technique for sense, 219. Our comparative helplessness with feeling, 22O. Projectile adjectives, 220. Metaphor sense metaphors and emotive metaphors, 221. Possibilities of

means of analysis

:

training, 223.

CHAPTER IV.

POETIC FORM

225

Difficulty of apprehending form due partly to bad assumptions, The regularity myth, 226. Variation about a norm, 227. 225. But rhythm goes deeper than the ear, 227. Inherent rhythm and ascribed rhythm, 229. Inherent rhythm as a necessary and important skeleton, 230. Damage done by the regularity myth and by the independence notion, 231. The danger of

neglecting sound, 233.

Reading aloud, 233.

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

CHAPTER V. Erratic

Irrelevance in Visualisers, 235. 236. Associations with other poems, 238. The general, 237. Stock responses their personal situation of the reader, 239. omnipresence, 240. Their utility, 240. Demarcation of their proper field, 241. As systems of energy, 242. As distorting As ground for complaint against variation, 243. agents, 243.

imagery,

:

235

CONTENTS

xii

CHAPTER

V

continued. PAGE

The stock response as the poem Good and bad stock larity, 245.

itself,

244.

responses

:

Resultant poputheir origins, 245.

Withdrawal from experience by deprivation, moral disaster, Loss in transmission of ideas, convention, intellectuality, 246, Home-made notions and genius, 249. And silliness, 251. 248. The poet and stock ideas, 253.

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBI-

CHAPTER VI.

TION

255

Sentimental'

as

an

As 256. of emotion, 257;

vague thought, facility

As

uttering a overuttering a precise thought as equivalent to 'crude', 258; as

abusive

gesture,

255.

:

'

deriving from sentiment', 259. Sentiments, 260. Their overDefinition of 'sentimental' in persistence and warping, 261. the third sense, 261. Sentimentality in readers and in poetry, The 261. Causes of, 262. Subject and treatment, 263. Conventional metaphors and justification of the response, 264. Inhibition sentimentality, 264. Autogenous emotions, 266. as the complement of sentimentality, 267. Necessity of, 268.

Causes

of,

Cure

268.

of,

269,

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

CHAPTER VII.

.

.

.271

Opposition between readers' and poets' beliefs, 271. Difficulty the same whether the belief is important or not, 272. Insufficiency of the poetic fiction solution, 273. Assumptions intellectual and emotional, 274. Distinction between them, 275. 'Justification' for each kind, 276. Logic and choice, 277. Adjustment of emotional and intellectual claims, 278. '

'

:

Sincerity as absence of self281. Spontaneity and Desophistication, 282. Sincerity as self-completion, 284. pendent upon a fundamental need, 286. Sincerity and intuition,

Appearance of deception,

287.

insincerity, 279.

As

280.

Improvement

genuineness,

in sincerity, 289.

Poetry as an exercise in

sincerity, 291.

CHAPTER

VIII.

TECHNICAL PRESUPPOSITIONS

AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS

.

.

Our

expectations from poetry, 292. Confusions between means and ends, 293. Encouraged by the language of criticism, 294.

The Summation

of details blunder, 295. No critical theory is Examples: the subject and message * The lilt Critical tests, 297. quest, 298. dogmas as primitive Their duplicity, 300. The disablement of superstitions, 299. The rule of choice, 301. judgment, 301. Principles only directly

useful,

296.

'

protective, 302.

Critical infallibity, 304.

292

CONTENTS

PART

IV

SUMMARY AND RECOMMENDATIONS I.

CULTURE l.

IN

THE PROTOCOLS

Standing of writers.

4. Inability reading. 6. Preconceptions. 10.

9. Variability.

II.

5.

Stock responses.

Bewilderment. General values.

speech.

14.

dissection.

12.

Understanding. Order.

8.

Authority.

.

20. 23.

The The

.

321-333

Profanation. 13. Prudential 16. Further 15. Confusions.

17.

SUGGESTIONS TOWARDS A REMEDY 18.

310-321

Lack of

3.

7.

Abuse of psychology.

.

Immaturity.

construe.

to

.

THE SERVICES OF PSYCHOLOGY 11.

III.

2.

.

333-351

19. Practical teaching of English. suggestions. 21 Prose. 22. Critical fog. decline in speech.

24.

Subjectivity.

Humility.

APPENDIX A I.

353

Further notes

adjectives.

4.

on

2. Intention. /Esthetic 3. meaning. Rhythm and Prosody. 5. Visual images.

APPENDIX B The

365

........

relative popularity of the

APPENDIX C

poems.

The authorship of the poems. The reader is recommended not he has read throu

ijh

to consult this

INDEX

until

Part II.

APPENDIX D The Poems

Appendix

367

371 as originally set before the readers.

373

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

PART ONE

INTRODUCTORY

INTRODUCTORY I

HAVE

book.

set three

aims before

First, to introduce a

me

in constructing this

new kind

of documenta-

tion to those who are interested in the contemporary state of culture whether as critics, as philosophers, as teachers, as psychologists, or merely as curious persons. Secondly, to provide a new technique for those who wish to discover for themselves what they

think and feel about poetry (and cognate matters) and why they should like or dislike it. Thirdly, to prepare the way for educational methods more efficient than those we use now in developing discrimination and the power to understand what we hear and read. For the first purpose I have used copious quotations from material supplied to me as a Lecturer at Cambridge and elsewhere. For some years I have made the experiment of issuing printed sheets of poems ranging in character from a poem by Shakespeare to a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox to audiences who were requested to comment freely in writing upon them. The authorship of the poems was not revealed, and with rare exceptions it was not recognised. After a week's interval I would collect these comments, taking certain obvious precautions to preserve the anonymity of the commentators, since only through anonymity could complete liberty to express their genuine opinions be secured for the writers. Care was taken to refrain from influencing them either for or against any poem. Four poems were issued at a time in groupings indicated in the

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

Appendix, in which the poems I am here using will be found. I would, as a rule, hint that the poems were perhaps a mixed lot, but that was the full extent of

my

interference.

I

lectured the following

week partly upon the poems, but rather more upon the comments, or protocols, as I call them. Much astonishment both for the protocol-writers and for the Lecturer ensued from this procedure. The opinions expressed were not arrived at lightly or from one reading of the poems only. As a measure of indirect suggestion, I asked each writer to record '

'

readings made of each poem. perusals made at one session were to be counted together as one reading provided that they aroused and sustained one single growing response to the poem, or alternatively led to no response at all and left the reader with nothing but the bare words before him on the paper. This was, I believe, well reading description of a who recorded readers that It follows understood. had devoted no dozen as many as ten or a readings

on

number number of

of

his protocol the

A

*

c

'

'

time and energy to their critical endeavour. Few writers gave less than four attacks to any of the poems. On the whole it is fairly safe to assert that the poems received much more thorough study than, shall we say, most anthology pieces get in the It is from this thoroughness, ordinary course. little

some

definite

expressible opinion, and from the week's

leisure

prompted by the

desire to arrive at

allowed that these protocols derive their significance. The standing of the writers must be made clear. The majority were undergraduates reading English considerable with a view to an Honours Degree. but there is no number were reading other subjects for this reason ground to suppose that these differed There was a sprinkling of in any essential respect. graduates, and a few members of the audience were Men and women were probably non-academic.

A

INTRODUCTORY included in about equal numbers, so, in what follows he must constantly be read as equivalent to he or she'. There was no compulsion to return proabout tocols. Those who took the trouble to write *

'

'

60 per cent. may be presumed to have been actuated by a more than ordinarily keen interest in From such comparisons as I have been poetry. able to make with protocols supplied by audiences of other types, I see no reason whatever to think that a higher standard of critical discernment can easily be found under our present cultural conditions. Doubtless, could the Royal Society of Literature or the Academic Committee of the English Association be impounded for purposes of experiment we might expect greater uniformity in the comments or at least in their style, and a more wary approach as regards some of the dangers of the test. But with regard to equally essential matters occasions for The precise conditions surprise might still occur. of this test are not duplicated in our everyday commerce with literature. Even the reviewers of new verse have as a rule a considerable body of the author's work to judge by. And editorial complaints are frequent as to the difficulty of obtaining good Editors themselves will not be the reviewing. slowest to agree with me upon the difficulty of judging verse without a hint as to its provenance. Enough, for the moment, about the documentation of this book. second aim is more ambitious and more requires explanation. It forms part of a general to modify our procedure in certain forms of attempt discussion. There are subjects mathematics, the and physics descriptive sciences supply some of them which can be discussed in terms of verifiable facts and precise hypotheses. There are other subjects the concrete affairs of commerce, law,

My

organisation and police work which can be handled by rules of thumb and generally accepted conven-

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

But in between

the vast corpus of problems, adumbrations, fictions, prejudices, assumptions, tenets the sphere of random beliefs and hopeful guesses the whole world, in brief, of abstract opinion and disputation about matters of feeling. To this tions.

is

;

;

world belongs everything about which civilised man cares most. I need only instance ethics, metaphysics, morals, religion, aesthetics, and the discussions sur-

rounding liberty, nationality, justice, love, truth, and knowledge to make this plain. As a subjectmatter for discussion, poetry is a central and typical denizen of this world. It is so both by its own nature and by the type of discussion with which it is traditionally associated. It serves, therefore, as an eminfaith

ently suitable bait for anyone who wishes to trap the current opinions and responses in this middle field for the purpose of examining and comparing them, and with a view to advancing our knowledge of what may be called the natural history of human opinions

and

feelings.

In part then this book is the record of a piece of field-work in comparative ideology. But I hope, not only to present an instructive collection of contemporary opinions, presuppositions, theories, beliefs, responses and the rest, but also to make some suggestions towards a better control of these tricksy components of our lives. The way in which it is hoped to do this can only be briefly indicated at this point.

There are two ways of interpreting few utterances.

all

but a very

Whenever we hear or read any not too nonsensical opinion, a tendency so strong and so automatic that must have been formed along with our earliest speech-habits, leads us to consider what seems to be it

said rather than the mental operations of the person said it. If the speaker is a recognised and

who

obvious

liar

this

tendency

is,

of course, arrested.

INTRODUCTORY

We

do then neglect what he has said and turn our attention instead to the motives or mechanisms that

have caused him to say it. But ordinarily we at once try to consider the objects his words seem to stand for and not the mental goings-on that led him to use the words. We say that we follow his thought and mean, not that we have traced what happened in his mind, but merely that we have gone through a train of thinking that seems to end where he ended. We are in fact so anxious to discover whether we agree or not with what is being *

'

said that we overlook the mind that says it, unless some very special circumstance calls us back. Compare now the attitude to speech of the alienist

dream

*

'

follow the ravings of mania or the maunderings of a neurotic. I do not suggest

attempting to

we should treat one another altogether as mental cases l but merely that for some subject-

that c

'

matters and

some types of discussion the

alienist's

attitude, his direction of attention, his order or plan of interpretation, is far more fruitful, and would lead

to better understanding on both sides of the discussion, than the usual method that our languagehabits force upon us. For normal minds are easier '

'

than diseased minds, and even more follow can be learned by adopting the psychologist's atti-

to

tude to ordinary speech-situations than by studying aberrations.

very strange that we have no simple verbal to describe these two different kinds Some device as unmistakable as the of meaning'. a dowrf** of railway signal ought to be up or It is

means by which *

'

'

*

A few touches of the clinical manner will, however, be not out of place in these pages, if only to counteract the indecent tendencies^ of For here are our friends and neighbours nay our very the scene. brothers and sisters caught at a moment of abandon giving themselves and their literary reputations away with an unexampled freedom. !t is indeed a sobering spectacle,*but like some sights of the hospitalward very serviceable to restore proportions and recall to us what 1

humanity, behind

all its

lendings and pretences,

is like.

TACTICAL CRITICISM

Clumsy and pedantic looking psychological periphrases have to be emavailable.

But there

none.

is

ployed instead. I shall, however, try to use one In handling the piece of shorthand consistently. the material of protocols I shall supplied by piles for those utterances statement term the keep whose meaning in the sense of what they say, or purport to say, is the prime object of interest. I shall reserve the term expression for those utterances where it is the mental operations of the writers which are to be considered. '

'

'

'

*

'

When the full range of this distinction is realised the study of criticism takes on a new significance. But the distinction is not easy to observe. Even the firmest resolution will be constantly broken down, When so strong are our native language habits. conflict with our own prebefore are set us, the impulse to refute, possessions to combat or to reconstruct them, rather than to

views that seem to

So the investigate them, is all but overwhelming. 1 like the of all the middle of criticism, history history subjects alluded to above, is a history of dogmatism and argumentation rather than a history of research. like all such histories the chief lesson to be learnt from it is the futility of all argumentation that

And

We

cannot profitably understanding. attack any opinion until we have discovered what it expresses as well as what it states ; and our present precedes

technique for investigating opinions must be admitted, for all these middle subjects, to be woefully inadequate. Therefore, the second aim of this book is to improve this technique. We shall have before us several hundreds of opinions upon particular aspects of poetry, and the poems themselves to help us to 1

We shall meet in

the protocols plenty of living instances of famous doctrines that are often thought to be now merely curiosities of opinion long since extinct. critical

INTRODUCTORY

We

shall have the great advantage of being able to compare numbers of extremely shall different opinions upon the same point. be able to study what may be called the same opinion in different stages of development as it comes from And further, we shall be able in different minds. to see what happens to a given instances many it is when opinion, applied to a different detail or a different poem. The effect of all this is remarkable. When the first dizzy bewilderment has worn off, as it very

examine them.

We

soon does, it is as though we were strolling through and about a building that hitherto we were only able to see from one or two distant standpoints. We gain a much more intimate understanding both of the opinions it provokes. 1 Something plan of the most usual approaches can be sketched and we learn what to expect when a new object, a new poem, comes up for discussion. It is as a step towards another training and technique in discussion that I would best like this book to be regarded. If we are to begin to understand half the opinions which appear in the protocols we shall need no little mental plasticity. And in the course of our comparisons, interpretations and extrapolations something like a plan of the ways in which the likely ambiguities of any given term or opinion-formula may radiate will make itself apparent. For the hope of a new technique in discussion that the study of the ambiguities of one lies in this term assists in the elucidation of another. To trace the meanings of sentimentality', truth', sincerity', ' or meaning itself, as these terms are used in criticism, can help us with other words used in other

of the

poem and

like a

:

'

*

'

*

A strange light, incidentally, is thrown upon the sources of Indeed I am not without fears that my efforts popularity for poetry. may prove of assistance to young poets (and others) desiring to A set of formulas for nation-wide appeal* increase their sales. seems to be a just possible outcome. 1

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM topics.

Ambiguity

senses that a

in fact

is

systematic

word may have

are

;

the separate

one

related to

not as strictly as the various aspects of another, a building, at least to a remarkable extent. Somewhich will perspective thing comparable to a the include and enable us to control and place rival meanings that bewilder us in discussion and hide our minds from one another can be worked out. Perhaps every intelligence that has ever reflected upon this matter will agree that this may be so. Every one agrees but no one does any research into the matter, although this is an affair in which even the slightest step forward affects the whole frontier line of human thought and discussion. The indispensable instrument for this inquiry is psychology. I am anxious to meet as far as may be the objection that may be brought by some psychologists, and these the best, that the protocols do not supply enough evidence for us really to be able to make out the motives of the writers and that therefore the whole investigation is superficial. But the beginning of every research ought to be superficial, if

'

'

'

'

and to find something to investigate that is accessible and detachable is one of the chief difficulties of the chief merit of the experiit Had I gives us this. the depths of these writers' Unwished to conscious, where I am quite willing to agree the real motives of their likings and dislikings would be found, I should have devised something like a branch of psychoanalytic technique for the purI believe

psychology, ment here

made plumb

is

that

progress would be made if we attempted to drag too deep a plough. However, even as it is, enough strange material pose.

But

it

was

clear that

little

turned up. After these explanations the reader will be prepared to find little argumentation in these pages, but much analysis, much rather strenuous exercise is

n

INTRODUCTORY in changing our

ground and a good deal of rather

intricate navigation.

the art of

Navigation, in fact

knowing where we are wherever, as mental travellers, we may go is the main subject of the book. To discuss poetry and the ways in which it may be approached, appreciated and judged is, of course, its prime purpose. But poetry itself is a mode of communication. What it communicates and how it does so and the worth of what is communicated form the subject-matter of criticism. It follows that criticism itself is very largely, though not wholly, an exercise in navigation.

It is all

the

more

surprising

then that no treatise on the art and science of intellectual and emotional navigation has yet been written for logic, which might appear to cover of this field, in actuality hardly touches it. part That the one and only goal of all critical en;

deavours, of

all

interpretation, appreciation, exhortais improvement in communica-

tion, praise or abuse,

tion so.

may seem an exaggeration. But The whole apparatus of critical

ciples

a means to the attainment of finer, more more discriminating communication. There

is

precise, is, it is

in practice it is rules and prin-

When we

true, a valuation side to criticism.

have solved, completely, the communication problem, when we have got, perfectly, the experience, the mental condition relevant to the poem, we have still to judge it, still to decide upon its worth. But the later question nearly

our

always settles

or rather, of the world

itself

own inmost nature and the nature which we live decide it for us.

;

Our prime endeavour must be to get the relevant mental conIf we cannot dition and then see what happens. then decide whether it is good or bad, it is doubtful whether any principles, however refined and subtle, can help us much. Without the capacity to get the experience they cannot help us at all. This is still in

clearer if

we

consider the use of critical

maxims

in

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

12

Value cannot be demonstrated except teaching. communication of what is valuable. the through Critical principles, in fact, need wary handling. They can never be a substitute for discernment though they may assist us to avoid unnecessary There has hardly ever been a critical blunders. rule, principle or maxim which has not been for wise men a helpful guide but for fools a will-o'-thewisp. All the great watchwords of ' criticism from down to the Aristotle's Poetry is an imitation doctrine that Poetry is expression', are ambiguous pointers that different people follow to very different destinations. Even the most sagacious critical principles may, as we shall see, become merely a and the most trivial or cover for critical ineptitude c

c

;

baseless generalisation

may

really

mask good and

discerning judgment. Everything turns upon how the principles are applied. It is to be feared that critical formulas, even the best, are responsible for more bad judgment than good, because it is far easier to forget their subtle sense and apply them

crudely than to

The

remember

it

astonishing variety of

and apply them

human

finely.

responses makes

irksome any too systematic scheme for arranging these extracts. I wish to present a sufficient selection to bring the situation concretely before the reader, reserving to the chapters of Part III any serious

attempt to clear up

the various

difficulties

with

which the protocol-writers have been struggling. I shall proceed poem by poem, allowing the internal drama latent in every clash of opinion, of taste or

temperament to guide the arrangement. Not all the poems, needless to say, raise the same problems in equal measure. In most, some one outstanding some difficulty, special occasion for a division of minds, takes precedence.

INTRODUCTORY

13

It is convenient therefore to place here a somewhat arbitrary list of the principal difficulties that may be encountered by one reader or another in the presence of almost any poem. This list is suggested by a study of the protocols themselves, and drawn up in an order which proceeds from the simplest, infant's, obstacle to successful reading up to the most insidious, intangible and bewildering of critical

problems. If

some of these

seem so simple as to would beg my reader despise them not to leap

difficulties

be hardly worth discussion,

who

feels a

I

temptation to Part of

my purpose is docuconfident of showing that the simple difficulties are those that most need attention as they are those that in fact receive least. lightly to his decision.

mentation and

We

I

am

soon advance, however, to points on which

more doubt may be and

felt

less enlightened, still

where controversy, more continues and we finish

face to face with questions which are yet settled and with some settled till the Day of Judgment.

no one which

will

pretend

will not

be

In the memorable words of Benjamin Paul Blood, What is concluded that we should conclude anything about it ? The following seem to be the chief difficulties of criticism or, at least, those which we shall have most occasion to consider here '

'

:

A. First must come the

difficulty of making out the of sense plain poetry. The most disturbing and fact impressive brought out by this experiment

that a large proportion of average-to-good (and in some cases, certainly, devoted) readers is

of poetry frequently and repeatedly fail to understand it, both as a statement and as an expression. They fail to make out its prose sense, its plain, overt meaning, as a set of ordinary, intelligible, English sentences, taken quite apart from any

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

14

And

further poetic significance.

equally, they tone, and its intention. They would travesty it in a paraphrase. They fail to construe it just as a schoolboy fails serious in to construe a piece of Caesar.

misapprehend

its

feeling,

its

How

its effects

be, is

we

in different instances this failure

may

It have to consider with care. not not confined to one class of readers

shall

;

whom we would

suspect fall victims. Nor is it only the most abstruse poetry which In fact, to set down, for once, so betrays us. the brutal truth, no immunity is possessed on any occasion, not by the most reputable scholar, from this or any other of these critical dangers.

only those

and not unconnected with, these of interpreting the meaning are the difficulties of sensuous apprehension. Words in have a form to the mind's ear and sequence the mind's tongue and larynx, even when

B. Parallel

to, difficulties

read. They have a movement and a The gulf is wide behave rhythm. may tween a reader who naturally and immediately perceives this form and movement (by a conjunction of sensory, intellectual and emotional sagacity) and another reader, who either ignores it or has to build it up laboriously with fingerand this counting, table-tapping and the rest silently

;

difference has

most far-reaching

effects.

C. Next may come those difficulties that are connected with the place of imagery principally ,

visual imagery, in poetic reading. They arise in part from the incurable fact that we differ

immensely in our capacity to visualise, and to Also produce imagery of the other senses. the importance of our imagery as a whole, as well as of in

some pet

our mental

particular type of image,

lives varies surprisingly.

Some

INTRODUCTORY

15

minds can do nothing and get nowhere without images others seem to be able to do everything and get anywhere, reach any and every state of thought and feeling without making use of them. Poets on the whole (though by no means all poets always) may be suspected of exceptional imaging capacity, and some readers are con;

stitutionally prone to stress the place of imagery in reading, to pay great attention to it, and even

judge the value of the poetry by the images in them. But images are erratic things lively images aroused in one mind need have on similarity to the equally lively images to it

excites ;

by the same line of poetry in another, and neither set need have anything to do with any images which may have existed in the poet's mind. Here is a troublesome source of critical

stirred

deviations.

D. Thirdly, more obviously, we have

to note the

powerful very pervasive influence of mnemonic These are misleading effects of the irrelevances. reader's being reminded of some personal scene or adventure, erratic associations, the interference of emotional reverberations from a past which may have nothing to do with the poem. Relevance is not an easy notion to define or to apply, though some instances of irrelevant intrusions are among the simplest of all accidents to diagnose.

E.

More

and more interesting are the surround what may be called Stock Responses. These have their opportunity whenever a poem seems to, or does, involve views and emotions already fully prepared in the reader's mind, so that what happens appears to be more of the reader's doing than the poet's. The button is pressed, and then the author's puzzling

critical traps that

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

6

work

done, for immediately the record starts playing in quasi- (or total) independence of the poem which is supposed to be its origin or instrument. Whenever this lamentable redistribution of the poet's and reader's share in the labour of poetry occurs, or is in danger of occurring, we require to be especially on our guard. Every kind of injustice may be committed as well by those who just escape as by those who are caught. is

a peril that needs less comment question of the due measure of This over-facility in certain emotional response is the Scylla whose Charybdis is directions

F. Sentimentality

is

It is a

here.

.

G,

This, as

Inhibition.

positive

much

phenomenon,

as Sentimentality, is a though less studied until

recent years and somewhat masked under the But neither can title of Hardness of Heart. well be considered in isolation.

H. Doctrinal Adhesions present another troublesome problem. Very much poetry religious poetry '

may be instanced seems to contain or imply views and beliefs, true or false, about the world. If this be so, what bearing has the truth-value of the views upon the worth of the poetry ? Even if it be not so, if the beliefs are not really contained or implied, but only seem so to a nonpoetical reading, what should be the bearing of the reader's conviction, if any, upon his estimate of the poetry ? Has poetry anything to say ; if not, why not, and if so, how ? Difficulties at this point are a fertile source of confusion and erratic judgment. I.

I

now

to a different order of difficulties, the of technical presuppositions have to be noted. When something has once been well

Passing

effects

INTRODUCTORY

17

done in a certain fashion we tend to expect similar things to be done in the future in the same fashion, and are disappointed or do not recognise them if they are done differently. Conversely, a technique which has shown its ineptitude for one purpose tends to become discredited for all. Both are cases of mistaking means for ends. Whenever we attempt to judge poetry from outside by technical details we are putting means before ends, and such is our ignorance of cause and effect in poetry we shall be lucky if we do not make even worse have to try to avoid judging blunders.

We

pianists J.

Finally,

by

their hair.

general

critical

preconceptions (prior as a result of

demands made upon poetry

conscious or unconscious about its nature and value), intervene endlessly, as the history of criticism shows only too well, between Like an unlucky the reader and the poem. dietetic formula they may cut him off from theories

j

what he very

is

starving for, even

when

it is

at his

lips.

These difficulties, as will have been observed, are not unconnected with one another and indeed overThey might have been collected under more lap. Yet, if we set aside certain extreme or trends of the personality (for example, blinding narcissism or grovelling self-abasement aberrations, temporary or permanent, of the self-

heads or fewer. twists

regarding sentiment) together with undue accumulations or depletions of energy, I believe that most of the principal obstacles and causes of failure in the

reading and judgment of poetry may without much But straining be brought under these ten heads. for to here this be sketched too are roughly they

judged.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

18

More by good

luck than by artful design, each poem, as a rule, proved an invitation to the mass of its readers to grapple with some one of the difficulties that have just been indicated. Thus a certain sporting interest

may be

felt

by the sagacious

critic

in divining where, in each case, the dividing line of opinion will fall, and upon what considerations it

No

attempt will be made, in the survey follows, to do more than shake out and air these variegated opinions. Elucidations, both of the poems and the opinions, will be for the^most part postponed, as well as my endeavours to 'adjudicate upon the poetic worth of the unfortunate subjects of will turn.

which

debate.

A very natural suspicion may fittingly be countered in this place. Certain doubts were occasionally expressed to me after a lecture that not all the protocol

were equally genuine. It was hinted that I might have myself composed some of those which came in most handily to illustrate a point. But none of the protocols have been tampered with and nothing has been added. I have even left the spelling and extracts

punctuation unchanged in all significant places. But another falsification may perhaps be charged

me, falsification through bias in selection. and Space, respect for the reader's impatience, forbade obviously my printing the whole of my material. Selected extracts alone could be ventured. With a little cunning it would be possible to make selections that would give very different impressions. I can only say that I have been on my guard against unfairness. I ought to add perhaps that the part of against

the

material

adequately represented is the havering, non-committal, vague, sit-on-the-fence, middle-body of opinion. I would have put in more of this if it were not such profitless reading. least

PART TWO

DOCUMENTATION But enough of this there is such a variety of game springing up before me, that I am distracted in my choice, and know not which to follow. It is sufficient to say, according to the proverb, that here is God's ;

plenty.

DRYDEN on

the Canterbury Pilgrims.

Life's more than breath 'Tis a great spirit and a

and the quick round of blood. busy heart ;

The coward and the small in soul scarce do live. One generous feeling, one great thought, one deed Of good, ere night, would make life longer seem Than if each year might number a thousand days this by nations of mankind. deeds, not years in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.

Spent as

We

is

live in

;

POEM

I

HERE, for once, in the opinions maintained about the central point, Nature shows a taste for system, and gives us the rare satisfaction of seeing nearly all the logical possibilities well represented in living and lively form. The central dispute concerned the place and value of the doctrine these verses propound, and whether that doctrine be well or ill expressed. Differing replies upon these matters were associated with high degrees of delight or disgust. That the that, on the contrary, it thought contained is true is false true that, though enough, it is commonthat it is original and place profound that, as a is finely or tamely, as a it or commonplace paradox, or these were the quesconfusedly expressed clearly tions agitated. The various possible answers were so well represented that it seems worth while making up a table ;

;

;

;

;

:

THOUGHT TRUE I

\ (

Vivid

Feeling

Metre

False

Remarkable Profound

Commonplace

Original

Trite

Expression

Expression

Confused

Obvious

Dull

Convincing Obscure 21

Tame

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

be heard.

First let the advocates of its excellence

i-ii. Truth is the essence of art, and the outstanding feature of this passage is truth. The poet has expressed in vivid terms his conception of the higher, if not the highest plane of life and we who read his work, cannot fail to appreciate its nobility of 2 thought and realise its challenge to mankind. The verse is full of sentiment, but sentiment of the best kind. 1

Alas

we

often fail to appreciate it, as is lamentably shown what follows. But let those of more elevated temper continue. !

in

i- 12. Here is noble thought clothed fittingly and strikingly in powerful verse. The first nine lines especially appeal to me, ending, as they do, in effective antithesis. 1*13. A noble message, well conveyed by the form chosen. '

Noble

'

seems indeed a key-word to

this passage.

1-14. These lines express the thoughts of a lofty soul in a simple yet impressive manner. They are lines which are worth remembering both on account of their thought and their concise and clear expression. The last phrase haunts the mind, but apart from this the whole passage moves forward with a gentle motion which tends to infix the words on the memory. 1

This numbering of the protocols is primarily introduced to But the decimal system allows me also to use it The number before the decimal point to suggest certain groupings. to 13* The (r ) indicates the poem which is being discussed. first number after the point suggests, when it remains the same for a sequence of extracts, that the same general problem, approach, or Thus have some view is being illustrated. ri2, 1-13 cognate bearing, t>ut with r2 a different general topic has taken its For example, 1*141, place. Similarly with the later decimal places. 1-142 may be especially considered along with 1-14, all being concerned in different ways with the same secondary point. (Here facilitate reference.

m,

.

.

.

.

.

.

the metrical qualities of the passage.)

attempted to make this numbering strictly used as a rough indication of the moments when we pass over to a new question it is a mere supplement to paragraphing, and any reader may neglect it at his discretion. Unless otherwise expressly stated a different number implies a

But

I

have

systematic.

not

It is

;

different writer. 2 The italics in all cases are mine and are introduced not to distort the protocols (the reader will become used to them) but to direct the reader's attention without toil to the points with which, for the moment, my commentary is concerned or to indicate where

comparisons

may be

interesting.

POEM It

may seem

at

one as to why

I

23 '

'

strange that the phrase acts the best should haunt the mind, but this is possibly not what the writer intended. Not all those who agree about the lofty jiobility of the passage and who most admire its expression are this expression is to

be admired.

i -14 1. The rather rugged metre makes the best possible setting for the noble idea of the poet. It carries one along with it, conveying the idea of someone speaking rapidly, his words almost

an instance tumbling over each other in the stress of emotion of how a npble^theme can inspire a poet to clothe it in noble diction, without any of the verbal embroideries often employed y

by

:

poets, to^ makejnferiQr thejnes palatable.. '

*

Words which almost tumble over one another and yet move forward with a gentle motion would seem impossibly versatile if we did not know how much this kind of movement in verse depends upon '

'

the reader. Several other views about the verse also found even among admirers. are qualities i'i42.

poem.

The thought is the most important thing about this The hint of paradox arrests the reader's attention, the

it gives one a feeling of satisfaction. It plain straightforward speech which is the best didactic poem.

truth of ,

is

expressed in

medium

for a

i '143. I admire this because I think the thought expressed is true and interesting, and original in that it gives the impression of vivid personal experience, and it is of interest to all since it concerns all. The choice of common everyday words drives

home the thought, by connecting it closely to ordinary life. The passage gains little from the beauty of rhythm and might with

little

or no loss have been written in prose.

A

i The Author stimulating thought well expressed. '144. protests against half-heartedness. The theme, dealing with the true way of living, is naturally of a lofty character, and blank, *"" verse suits the subject-matter with peculiar felicity.

i '145. The short phrases in line four and the long sweep in 6 dying away in 7, are magnificent. The last four lines clinch the argument perfectly.

5,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

24

Let us now hear something of the other side of the case before turning to the extreme enthusiasts. The underlying idea, that life intensity as well as its duration is a Consequently the poem is to be judged by its

The poem

1-15.

is

worthless.

must be measured by

its

familiar one. strength and originality of expression. The author has brought no freshness to his material his thought is flabby and confused ; ;

his verse

is

pedestrian.

with him

Away

!

The

next writer adds a complaint which looks as though it might apply to much blank verse.

The

i'i6.

poem is too deliberate to be The poet had a few trite precepts and failed to make the pills palatable

moralising of this

swallowed without a grimace.

of which to deliver himself, by poetic wrappings. The metre and necessary accentuations are awkward, and no relief is offered by any sort of rime scheme. Still it is left

more severe upon the same point

is

1-161

;

to 1*162 to restore the balance.

not even smallest i-i6i. Excellent prose but not good verse of a philosopher at metre or Writer more attempt rhyme. probably than a poet too matter-of-fact, too little Imagination and Fancy. ;

:

is difficult to express one's attitude to this. The sentiment is very proper, but fails to rouse one to enthusiasm. What does the vague phrase " Spent as this is by nations of mankind ", mean ? And the construction from lines 4 to 7 is very clumsy. The thing could have been said five times more This is prose, quickly and would have been so in poetry. Contrast its rhetorical c/iopped up to fit a metrical scheme. phrases with the concentration and fullness of No. 3.

1-162. It

An

is also made by more introspective and shows more emancipation from the tyranny of the message '.

approach through comparisons

which

1*163

is

'

Reminded of the pitched-up movement or strong accent of post-Elizabethans. But this is without their complexity of thought, especially shown in metaphor. Imitative. Here the movement becomes more reflective, less an experience ; a deliberate loading of rhythm influence of the didactic prei

'163.

artificial

Wordsworth

tentions.

drama stilts.

A

?

I

?

collection of

Spurious.

Mid-Victorian

poetic

commonplace aphorisms on borrowed It might accept the statements with indifference.

POEM

I

25

have been written for a Calendar of Great Thoughts. Reading it aloud, I have to mouth it, and I felt ridiculously morally dignified.

Truth, of some kind, has hitherto been claimed or allowed by all, but more than one of the poet's assertions challenged a division.

On

I'ly.

if living is as heroes.

"

reading this my mind jumps up and disagrees measured by intensity of feeling, cowards live as much Line 3 might be parodied with equal truth

One wounded feeling, one foul thought, one deed Of crime, ere night, would make life longer seem "

The impression received was one of the self-satisfaction of the " author (I do not say a spinster devoted to good poet ") works, and sentimentally inclined, or perhaps Wordsworth. Large query to the last line. :

Wordsworth's name should be considered

Why such a Still

telling missile is uncertain.

more vigorous

is

dissent

upon the temporal

"

" good great thoughts ", seem longer, personally

issue. 1-18. Finally I disagree entirely that "

I

"

noble feelings ", make feel they make it seem shorter.

deeds

or

life

But there are some who refuse to let a little differlike this come between them and the poet. 1-181. This poem expresses for me just that view of the

ence

difference between

existence and

life

which seems

truest.

never can conceive of time as some measurement indicated

"

I

in

figures on a dial". Thought is the chief activity regarded as foolish or with complete indifference by those with whom one

" comes in contact oftenest, i.e. the small in soul ". I do not speak in any bitterness but from my normal experience. It is this conclusion to which I seem to be forced which makes such a stanza as this seem to me to be fit to be shouted from the house tops '. *

That

is why it appeals to me. do not agree however that " one great thought, one deed of would make life longer seem ", than it does to men good " " each humdrum day, but rather think would express the shorter idea better. I may think of it in a special sense however, which would not appeal to most and which I should find it almost impossible to explain, and in any case metaphysics is banned.

I

.

I

am

.

.

sorry, for the idea

is

always the chief joy to

me

in poetry.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

26

must have been responsible for the ban on metaphysics by some request that the protocols should I

deal with the poetry rather than with the Universe.

The 'stanza' remark may offset 1-16 and 1-161. The misanthropy finds a slight echo in 1-182 which again expresses doubt based on the facts of Temporal but a balm for disillusionment is disPerception ;

covered by 1-183. 1-182. Good on the whole, though it is doubtful if life really seems longer to the good than to the wicked or to the merely

passive.

The lines are worth reading twice because they really do express something instead of just drivelling on like those of number

II.

1-183. Suggests Browning to me, and is more interesting for that reason. But there is in this piece a more all-round handling of the idea than Browning would have given it. It seems to be the product of a man of middle age, who has taken the sweets of life and proved them mere vanity, but who has not turned cynic. It is at

once healthy and profound.

Browning figures again in 1-19, where Wordsworth has some amends made to him. One thought

and

Idea seven and a familiar finally summed up in thought brought home with new conviction. The rhythm of blank verse restraint combined with even flow expressive of the meditativeness and yet obvious truth of the idea. The passage reminiscent of the whole effort and accomplishment of the greatest poets, and in a secondary way of passages in Shakespeare, 1-19.

expressed in the

Shelley, 1-191.

first

clearly

forcibly

expressed.

two

lines, amplified in the next Chief effect the last two.

Wordsworth, Browning,

The thought

a

etc.

obvious and / don't find anything home.

little

in the expression to drive it

i -192. It is not a new thought, but the symmetry and perfect meter makes the old thought more impressive than if said in The meter lends dignity, and makes it serious and prose.

profound.

After these jarring voices a more unanimous chorus will make a soothing close. It will be noticed

POEM

I

27

that the central issue, the doctrinal aspect of the passage, becomes less and less prominent and that

Mnemonic

Irrelevances and Sentimentality take its place.

the

of

possibilities

it, I linked it 1*193. I don't know why, but as soon as I read " Into Battle ", that poem of Julian GrenfelPs, and especially with this stanza, which immediately came into

somehow with

my

mind. "

The

black-bird sings to him, Brother, brother, be the last song you shall sing, Sing well, for you may not sing another, If this

Brother, sing." I think this

"

was suggested by

"

we

shall

A

count time by heart-

phrase of Robert Lynd's also came into my mind the great hours of life hours of passionate "happiness how true and passionate sorrow ". And I thought to myself that is. These ARE the only hours in life that mean anything. " infinite le silence Any why ? Because they lift one to the " tternel de ces espaces infinis m'effraie I throbs

once again. "

.

.

.

1-194. Appeals to me because it sums up my creed as a Socialist, of service not self. A further appeal lies in its emphasis of a fact we are too apt to forget, namely, that the real test of life is action and nobility of thought and feeling, not length of years. This amounts to a solemn warning, and as befits the solemnity of the theme the movement is wedded to the thought. The long line and the slow movement, rendered more impressive by the number of long vowels, hammer the thought into the mind. c

But even the lofty turn to be challenged.

'

ideal

of the passage has

its

not as a passion, not by sympathetic This appeals nor as beauty, but by its simple truth and teaching a teaching which seems to come from a fellow human being, and one to which we may all attain. There is no lofty ideal the 1-195. interests

;

,

regard of which makes us feel poor creatures and realise the impossibilities of perfection. True it may be judged sentimental if carefully dissected, but some amount of sentiment appeals what moral teaching is naturally to the instincts of every one successful without some appeal to sentiment ? It is a call not to sense, nor to the soul but to the heart. :

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

28

A

Transatlantic smack 1 now makes itself unmistakably felt and continues through several extracts. 1-2.

This

is

bigger, greater,

fine

a grand appeal to us to make our lives to put aside the petty and material

more sublime,

which shut in our souls and let forth our big and generous It is an appeal to us to live, and not merely to exist, impulses. and this appeal culminates in a grand climax in the last two lines. interests

The superb luxuriance of the style in 1-21 has as characteristic a savour as the looser idioms of 1-22. Nor are the contents less significant in their rendering of one powerful trend of that western world. the rythm of the human heart the fundamental rythm of all music and of all poetry. The swing catches the heart and the emotions, the thought leads the mind on to inspiration. The more you read the verse the more the rythm and the theme, the two together, catch your and you soul and carry you completely in tune on to the end wish there were more. Even the first reading takes you into its cadence and its spirit. 1-21. It successfully catches

beat

;

It wears better with each succeeding reading that you really have concentrated on. It is an inspirational bit, yet full-blooded and perfectly conversant with life as it is in its sorrows, despairs, and its fulfilled and unfulfilled hopes. More than much poetry it has a taste of life as Shakespeare knew it and Hugo, not as Shelley or Keats, or a shallow modern novelist know it. In it is a punch, an energy and the vigour of red-blooded manhood tinged with a " " God's in his heaven, all's right with the world deep tone of if you do your own fighting to live your own full, rich life.

life

It

surely has inspired something here

!

1-22. Worldly ideals and philosophy run through it. It is modern, speaking of self-expression. // says to self-express a full emotional and a rich intellectual life. It is clear in parts at first. Subsequent readings show subtlety as well as clarity. Not poetic in comparison with the Romantic age, it being too serious and too of the soil and the streetcar for the average

romantic. 1

I

cannot plume myself that my literary acumen alone I have other evidence.

for this perception.

is

responsible

POEM

I

29

We

go back now to English speech-rhythm, but the crescendo of praise does not flag. After reading over this passage for " How much every one words ordinary they are, too, such as every rift loaded with ore* every day

the first time, I received of those words means, I myself probably use ". And then I read it again. And this impression deepened, and others arose. The What a sure hand guided this pen vividness of the thing how strong it is And what a gradual rise to the glorious lifting " we should count time by heartof the veil in the last line but one throbs ". The voice has risen for an instant to passion. And then it dies away, firm and masterful to the end. 1*3.

one impression *

!

.

.

.

!

From this high peak of admiration to the complete union of hearts, with all the appropriate trappings of a romantic attachment thrown in, is a mere glissade. 1-31. (1)

Yes, intensely.

Curious way

This

is first rate.

Why?

[in order].

suggests immediately great intimacy with at night, curtains drawn, author corner, chimney musing, old inns, you it

FRIENDSHIP. A room

the author.

roaring log fire, and him alone. One of those rare and inexplicable moments which stand out in a world of phantasms. When your mind seems to as

REAL

touch another's, and you brothers, (2)

we

Most

are

all

realise

that far

ONE person.

beyond our being

loveable nobility [unconscious] to which

I

immediately

respond. (3) Artistic reasons

a.

Topping condensation of language. No vapid and ineffectual adjectives. Each word contains multitudes.

b.

Freedom and balance of

lines.

Like wonderful

music.

Could the variety of the human garden be better displayed, even in the sunlight, than in this potpourri of academic lucubrations ?

With Poem I we have been concerned

chiefly

with

30

PRACTICAL CRITICISM '

the problem of the message ', the truth and worth of the doctrine embodied in the poem. Discussion of this general question of the place of messages and doctrines in poetry is postponed until Part III, expecially Chapter VIL (The Index may also be Poem With II we pass to a different consulted.) group of critical difficulties. '

'

Gone were but

Come were I

would

the

Wijjter,

me

but

to a covert the birds sing.

Where Where

in the whitethorn

Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the holly-bush. Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs

Arching high over

A

cool, green house.

Full of sweet scents,

And Which "

whispering

air

sayeth softly spread no snare :

We

"

Here dwell in safety, Here dwell alone, With a clear stream And a mossy stone. "

Here the sun shineth

Most shadily Here is heard an echo ;

Of the far sea, Though far off

it

w

Spring,

be."

:

POEM THE

II

comments upon

adverse

this

poem show some

One particular allegation interesting uniformities. recurs again and again like a refrain. very widewell-inculcated spread, presupposition may be sus-

A

pected behind such a confident general agreement.

The

2*1.

writer has only got to find twelve rhyming words to bush ', boughs ', trivial thoughts so why thrush ', *

'

express very '

house

*

'.

Whole poem

silly.

n. It has little merit parts of it are deplorable. The first two verses are quite attractive, and the rhyme 2-

*

thrush

'

almost bearable. When boughs and house the attempt to enjoy the poem fails. There are not only poor rhymes, there is also much poverty of thought, and much real silliness in the poem.

with

'

bush

'

*

'

'

'

is

come next however,

Does perfect inflict

this

this certainty that imperfect rhymes make a indictment arise from any real pain they

upon

readers' ears

contempt more

2*12.

The

first

2 lines

are the reasons for

?

are

not sense.

I

laughed at the

and boughs and house. Reminds " "poetry one wrote when aged ten.

rhyming of thrush and bush one quite pleasantly of the

Or

?

subtle

;

us nearer to the true explanaefforts, not only at the age of ten but. even in years closer at hand, have an inevitable influence on our judgment, a useful influence when it keeps within its province, but dangerous when it meddles with matters beyond it. All but a very few beginners in verse find rhyming

Probably

tion.

this brings

Reminders of our own poetic

a great strain

upon

their verbal ingenuity 33

and atten-

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

34

Success or failure for the neophyte is very More largely a question of the control of rhymes. often than not the strain of finding rhymes and fitting them together has been so intense that nothing It is probably else has been genuinely attempted. of that the best even writers, true, tion.

Rimes the rudders

By which,

are of verses

like ships,

but most people's

they steer their courses,

voyages, in command, are all rudder, and they frequently retire from the trade before this stage has been passed. An exaggerated respect for rhyming ability is the result, and a tendency to great severity towards verses in which the poet, if concerned only

made

first

in vessels that are

with making his rhymes perfect, could be charged with partial unsuccess. That the poet may have had

more

and more important, tasks in And that he could possibly overlooked. easily have intended only a partial rhyme, and have preferred it to a full one, is too bewildering a thought to be entertained. Another strong motive for the avidity with which imperfect rhymes are fastened upon is the desire for other,

hand

difficult

is

something tangible by which to judge poetic merit. Normal sensibilities can decide with considerable certainty whether two sounds rhyme perfectly or

The

task

nearly as simple as that of a carpenter measuring planks. It is a grateful relief to pass from the nebulous world of intellectual and emotional accordances to definite questions of sensory fact. By assuming that the poet intended to rhyme

not.

perfectly,

we

is

get a clear

success or failure. explicit

and usually

unambiguous

test for his

The assumption need is

not be

not, but the temptation to

entertain it is very comprehensible. Details of scansion, opportunities for grammatical objection, for allegations of descriptive inaccuracy,

POEM

II

35

for charges of logical inconsistency, share this attracTo put the point generally, all those features tion.

which can be judged without going into the poem, all details or aspects that can be scrutinised by the

mind

in

its

every

practical,

-

hour,

non-poetical

capacity, are so many invitations to make short work of the task of critical appraisement. Instead of trying the poem on, we content ourselves with a glance at For the details are more its lapels or its buttons. ensemble and technical than the easily perceived than the point of the more obtrusive seem points ,

whole.

The

following extracts

may perhaps be

to illustrate these remarks

considered

:

Sentiment utter rubbish. 2-2. I think this is utterly absurd. Poet not in love with nature merely fed up with life. Idea of be made attractive, but this is a wish for a lazy and CAN peace " " a longing for peace. secure life rather than Who has ever seen a " green " house, or seen the sun shine shadily

Why

?

preceding line

when

?

/> Idea of living with a

V

The

what is at its best but the whole thing has been said in the

bring in a line at the end, to upset,

a jingle of a metre,

mossy stone singularly

sternness of the opening finds

unattractive.

its

complement

in a later extract (2-8) ; and some clearly much needed elucidations of the cool green house' are '

given in 2-6.

The

cavils continue

:

2-21. Green houses not usually cool, though I suppose they might be if anyone was foolish enough to erect them under arches of budding boughs. What does the air mean when it sayeth softly we spread no

snare.

What

are

we

?

The charge of descriptive inaccuracy now spreads to the robin's song, though most shadily continues to prove a particularly tough morsel to assimilate. '

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

36

Full of mistakes. Firstly it is nonsense : moreover it " How can the sun shine inspired nonsense ". " " Set out to be natural and fresh and has most shadily ? become commonplace and ridiculous. Though no ornithologist, do robins sing ? The metre is sing-songy and the rhymes such as " " " " " " " " boughs and house and shadily and the sea require a lot of imagination. The addition of the 5th line in the last stanza though permissible seems uncalled for. 2' 22.

is

trite

and not

2-23. First reading produced a feeling of irritation at having One feels to read such silly stuff because it was so senseless.

that the poem is peace of nature.

meant to be one of musical simplicity and the But in effect it is silly as it is very slight in

a poem with such a thought "and hideously worded. To begin " line as Gone were but the Winter gives the show away. " " " " Rhymes such as boughs and house grate on one's ear. When you look into it it is hardly sense, how can the sun shine shadily ? and who wants to live with a mossy stone anyway ?

Commonplace idea. Ambiguity of the idea of arched over a cool green house. budding boughs " Here the sun shineth most In the last verse the phrase " is stupid and also ambiguous in meaning. The sun shadily cannot shine shadily, it can only cause shadows to be cast ; besides, " " most shadily the term might mean that the sun is ashamed of shining when perhaps it had no right to do so. 2' 24. Trivial.

Grammar has its turn. 2-25. A very light set of verses

of very little merit. The and thrush bush, boughs and house and poor e.g. rhyming the construction of the whole thing is extremely weak. " " The verbs are used badly e.g. Singeth a thrush ", but Sings a robin ", and the grammar of verse 4 is quite obscure ; if, as " We apparently is the "case, both the" scents "and the air say, is incorrect. snare no obviously How, sayeth spread Altogether, a very slight, again, can the sun shine shadily ? is

futile

example. '

The message

'

question (what the

poem says)>

also

a comparatively external consideration, is noticed in 2*3, which puts forward a devastating view of literary history. 2*3. This poem might have been pleasing to the reading public a few hundred years ago, but to-day I can see little reason why It is simple, almost it should be read, except for historical interest.

POEM

It

The riming

childish, without being charming.

with

"

verse.

house It is

But there

is

37

"

of

"

"

boughs on the last

is distinctly irritating, as is a fifth line rambling, discursive, and says nothing that matters.

melody and rhythm, which redeem

it

slightly.

Moral qualms similar to those in 2-2 appear in Such just remarks upon make2-4 and 2-41.' believe may seem to owe their application here to '

'

Mnemonic

irrelevance as

much

as to Stoicism.

Experience 2'4. Communication extraordinarily successful. most pleasant and refreshing and consolatory : the last makes indulgence seem rather childish and cowardly. Make-believe has of increasing rather than decreasing present disthis experience an end in itself is to ignore our responsibility to society, etc. etc. and sacrifice the latter " half of life, while temporarily to indulge is mental dope." Doubtful whether I like it or not owing to an unfortunate Pleasure never a strong influence (in dislike of the trifling.

its after-effect

To make

content.

literature).

It seems a pity that this severe critic should be throwing away such valuable views. May they help and support some other earnest student, such an one as the next writer, for example :

The

passage is obviously intended to possess lyrical Assonance, rather than strict metre, is used to heighten effect of simplicity. I may appreciate the poem better in a lighter 2*41.

simplicity.

moment. mood.

The to

A

more

serious subject

fits

assonance suggestion

meet such

strictures

is

better

my

serious working

probably an attempt as we have

on the rhymes

noticed above. It is slightly surprising, in view of the subjectmatter of the poem, that mnemonic irrelevance did not have more play. One writer was on his guard. 2'5 I fear I am not an impartial judge, as the lines inevitably associate themselves with a scene and experience which I value.

elsewhere in the protocols is so great its absence. More the is the extreme probably explanation difficulty so Its influence

that

mere caution hardly explains

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

38

writers found in reading (rendering)

many to

yield

them

An

satisfaction.

any

it

so as

extremely

illuminating account of this difficulty is given in 2-6, a document of capital importance for understanding the reception of this poem. 2-6. An interesting example of the difference made by reading the same poem in different ways. In reading this, one must not If one does, the whole let the rhythm become too square-cut. thing becomes jerky and amateurish : one accentuates faults of I read scansion, and throws emphasis upon the wrong words. The first two times, I gave it four accents or this three times. three to each line :

Full^of fre*sh scents, Are the budding boughs.

Arching high 6Wr,

A

But

this is certainly

co61 green house,

wrong

:

it

should be

Full of fresh scents the budding boughs, ^Are

This

is faster,

Arching high 6ver A c6ol green house. it goes with a swing. lighter :

Morris* lines for his bed-hangings

It

reminds one of

:

Rest then and rest And think of the best, or however they go. Read like this, the poem is a light little thing, without indeed much intellectual appeal, but expressing certainly the pleasant feeling of joy and peace one feels in the

Read heavily, the poem would disgrace some boys of the scansion is faulty alternating wildly between 4 feet and 3 the rhymes (e.g. thrush and bush) atrocious.

spring.

14

:

:

The

sense suffers too

"

:

e.g.

With a

clear stream

And a m6ssy (instead of

"

With

st6ne.

a cledr stream/* etc.)

"

Here, you'd better take suggests the poet saying a stream too yes, and a stone." Again, with the accent thrown ff "green" in the yd stanza, one is less likely to be worried by thoughts of "greenhouses", or alternatively (which is worse), of

is silly

:

it

:

:

POEM

II

39

houses of brick and mortar, painted that blatant shade of bright " " The cool green house is of green which is so distressing. course the place under the trees. The important points are (i) that it is cool (2) that it is like a house. But if one accentuates " green," these are just the points which do not stand out.

How

widely renderings of the same poem may demonstrated by 2-61, where a reply to the earnest student (2-4) is also suggested.

differ is

2-61. In writing these lines the author is carried along by a deep passion for real life, as distinct from mere existence. The depth of his feeling expresses itself in the breathless, tumultuous music of the whole.

Very detailed analyses of correspondences between sound and sense are perhaps always open to susbut 2-7 is persuasive as well as subtle, and picion 2-71 does seem to be recording rather than inventing. ;

2-7. This poem is full of the most delicate changes of metre. There are two accents in every line, but they are so changed about, and the unstressed syllables are so varied in position and number, that there are scarcely any two lines alike.

The vowels

are also well arranged.

"

The sudden

Arching high over A cool green house. "

transition to the long

i

sound gives an impression

of height in the arch, set off by the broader vowels on either side. The whispering air is perfectly expressed by the repeated s's in verse 4.

The echo ts wonderfully suggested in the last verse by the quiet additional last line, and by the fact that the third line is an exact I like metrical repetition of the first line of the first verse. " here the sun shineth, most shadily ". It is at once suggestive and concise.

2-71. The sincerity and spontaneity of this lyric might be contrasted with the muddled sentimentality of IV. In its own One feels the delicate rather tiny way, it is quite exquisite. movement of the rhythm as it changes from the clear fine tone of the 3rd and 4th verses to, the gravity and steadiness of the The corresponding shift in vowel values might be last two. ' * noticed the deepening effect given by the long a's and o's.' *

The

adjectives are chosen with a full regard for their emotive

40

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

" " value in particular, mossy stone which at once produces the intended atmosphere of quietness and uninterrupted peace.

In the last remark a reminiscence of the principles Its of Japanese gardening might be respected. own rather tiny way supplements the impression. With this fine balance and sense of proportion 2-8 *

'

may be

contrasted.

2-8. No thoughts whatever would come to me until I had committed these verses to memory. Then I saw that the words and the subject were simple enough, but underneath lay something which I cannot define. It seems to be unutterable sadness, the cry of a sensitive heart, betrayed by someone it trusted. (Perhaps Tess felt like this). The kindness and solace in nature appears to be emphasized, in contrast to the cunning and the The sound of the echo of the sea seems to me to strife of men. be necessary to make such a scene complete, as it gives a soothing sense of the vastness of nature all round us, that we are not alone, that there is someone above us, greater and wiser and stronger " than we. It reminds me of The Forsaken Merman ".

There may in fact have been something of this in the poet's mind yet, even were it so, we could divination down to anything this reader's hardly put but accident. To step back too far from a poem, to pay too little attention to its actual detail, to allow thoughts and feelings to wander off into a development of their own may be as mistaken a method as the most captious selection of details. But 2-7 and 271 will show, if it needed showing, that the closest scrutiny of details is compatible with the fullest, fairest and most discriminating appraisal of the whole. Indeed, the two inevitably go together. The sovereign formula in all reading is that we must pass to judgment of details from judgment of the whole. It is always rash and usually disastrous to reverse the ;

process.

The following description of this poet's work by the late Sir Walter Raleigh will be of interest Full '

:

POEM

II

41

of that beautiful redundance and that varied reiteration which are natural to all strong feeling and the expression rising all spontaneous melody incessant with recurrence to the words or unsought, a at with delicate sense of pattern first, phrases given which prescribes the changes in the cadence.' .

.

.

At the round earth's imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise

From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go

;

whom whom

the flood did, and lire shall o'erthrow, war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyes Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.

All All

But

let

them

sleep,

For,

if

above

all

Lord, and

these

my

sins

me mourn

a space

;

abound,

'Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace, When we are there. Here on this lowly ground, Teach me how to repent, for that's as good As if Thou hadst seal'd my pardon with Thy blood.

POEM

III

BETWEEN

the bare apprehension of the literal sense of a passage and the full comprehension of all its meanings in every kind, a number of half-way houses intervene. To ascertain, even roughly, where failure has occurred is, in many cases, beyond our power.

Innumerable cat and mouse engagements between some investigator of the acumen and pertinacity of Freud and a string of hapless patients would be needed to make plain even the outlines of the process that we so glibly call grasping or realising a meanThat the final stages are very sudden and ing '. *

'

'

surprising in their effects

about

is

nearly

all

that

is

known

it.

The

meaning which are the of our third set of protocols are, feature impressive in not to order. therefore, range easy Inability to construe may have countless causes. Distractions, preconceptions, inhibitions of all kinds have their part,

failures to grasp the

and putting our finger on the obstructing item

always largely guesswork. The assumption, however, that stupidity is not a simple quality, such as weight or impenetrability were once thought to be, but an effect of complex inhibitions is a long stride in a hopeful direction. The most leaden-witted blockhead thereby becomes an object of interest. Hazardous though this guesswork be, some of the writers supply hints which are too tempting not to be followed up. is

3 i. I confess immediately that I can't

shouting

is

about.

The poem 43

is

make out what

completely confusing.

all

the

The

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

44

numerous pronouns and adverbs mix up the thought, if indeed there is one definite thought throughout. / don't like Shakespearean sonnets , I mean that form, as a rule, " " " " so it ts particularly annoying to have good and blood rime. The first two lines are vigorous and imaginative, but the list of oppressions of God, Man, and Nature is a huge mental obstacle in reading this sonnet. But the confusion in thought has failed to establish, in the reader,

communication, and even comprehension.

The prejudice against the alleged Shakespearean form, or rather against the couplet as a close, is hardly sufficient as an explanation, though his overlooking the form of the octave argues some strength in it. His pounce on the rhymes was at most a slight distraction. A better hint comes from his use of the '

word oppressions '. The parti pris that this suggests and may very is indicated more clearly in 3-11 possibly be responsible for a considerable proportion of the failures. 3*1 1. I can connect this stanza with nothing which has or " " does appeal to me. And where is ? there There is or can be " " no condition as to whether any sin whatever will over abound

the fearful damage which war, dearth, chance, age and all the other tyrannies may have inflicted upon the soul. A man who sins repents but what cause has that man to repent, who is the victim of those scourges here enumerated ? I suppose, really, I do not understand the lines, and certainly wish they had some context, some co-ordinates which might furnish an invaluable clue. :

'

'

A doctrinal grudge is clearly apparent here however little

may have had in making his And we shall probably not be

luck the writer

objection precise. in tracing his misreading to his grudge, rather than the other way about. Something more than a surprising unfamiliarity with the elements of the Christian religion seems to be needed to explain the " Where is there ? " As a speculation, no query more, a paralysing influence from an anti-religious reaction seems a permissible hypothesis. That its victim was unaware of this seems to be indicated by

wrong

'

'

POEM

III

45

his desire for a context. The odd failure to recognise the sonnet form is found again in 3.15. The localisation of there ' baffles more apprecia*

tive readers. "

3*12.

The

first

by

four lines of the extract are impressive. "

The

is a pretty conceit and appeals earth's imagined corners " " numberless infinities its apparent contradiction, while

round

conveys very well, the idea of the immensity of life's history. Lines 5-8 lapse into a matter of fact, cold-blooded, catalogue of the various possible ways of meeting a violent end. The sixth line is particularly irksome. The rest of the poem is not too coherent. The phrase " When we are there " is extremely " "

and

mystifying,

religious tone

that's

as good

hardly

fits

in

with solemn,

of the piece.

This perhaps

against our hypothesis of an anti-religious prejudice. ' None the less the descrip* tion of the as cold-blooded ', the incatalogue almost amounting to a refusal, ability to realise it, and the demand for the intimate, colloquial that's as good to be replaced by some less actual and imtells

'

'

'

mediate phraseology are suggestive. Among ideas mind might be loath to come too near to, that of the Judgment may well claim a place. Some slight corroboration may perhaps be seem in the easy patronage which another writer extends.

that the

3' 13.

The sudden change from

the fine tang of the

first lines

to the simplicity of the last is effective, but the long strings of monosyllables are ugly, and the fifth line is inexcusable while

the sense is not altogether clear. It is difficult to share the poet's attitude, because although he is evidently sincere, his technique is bad. The lines do, however, in spite of this express the simple faith of a very simple man.

Contempt '

is

a well-recognised defensive reaction. '

This unconscious fright hypothesis must not be overworked however. Two extracts in which the distaste for the doctrine present is avowed will round the matter off. The second is more remarkable as an astonishing example of the power of stock responses.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

46

A

3 14. poem of this kind needs perfection. If not, enumera" tions as ." cannot but bore. war, dearth, age Gloomy poems must express deep thoughts or give a harmonious feeling .

.

of melancholy not only a feeling of fear and discomfort else they are a failure.

a

3i5. Mouthfuls of words. Has no appeal whatsoever. Make good hymn in fact, that's the way the metre goes. Too religious for one who doesn't believe in repenting that way.

That

response, elicited merely by the religious subject-matter, should be able to make a sonnet sound like a hymn is a fact that surely stretches our notions of the mind's power over matter. nervous reader offers a too simple excuse for his failure to grasp the meaning. stock

a

A

The

effect of this poem is confusion of the mind, clamorous vigour of the first half. The second half owing is quiet and effective and this effect is obtained largely by its None the less the first half is contrast with the beginning. " all whom the flood did and rather oppressive, such a line as " fire shall o'erthrow being superfluous. 3-2.

first

to the

A moral objection to the poet's attitude, which appears in 3-3, 3-31 and 3-32, may be allowed more occulting power. " the round earth's imagined stimulating mind some great poem does associated in with corners "is my the idea come from somewhere in Paradise Lost ? But the first 8 lines of the sonnet seem to have nothing to do with the last 6 the only connection being between the number of 3-3.

The

first line is

souls to be resurrected and the

number

of the writer's sins, which " think of the numberless " aroused be souls to to being only put sleep again infinities of while the writer repents he doesn't even tell us anything about " I noticed his sins to make it interesting. whose eyes " shall never taste death's woe on my third reading and when " we are there ", instead of when " I am there." More irritating every time I look at it.

seems

irrelevant.

It

is

irritating

to

.

3*31.

doesn't 3*32.

There

is

move me

nothing particularly poetic in the passage, ought to, it lies flat like the speaker.

.

.

it

as poetry

This ought to have a most

terrific effect

:

in

one sonnet

we have compressed the two huge subjects of the Day of Judgment,

POEM

III

47

and the Redemption of the world by Christ. But somehow the poem does not raise as much emotion as one feels it ought to have raised. I think this is because it seems to progress downwards from greater emotion to less. First one has the terror of then one has what is really a selfish fright the Judgment Day on the part of the writer, that he personally may be damned. But it is a considerable achievement to have dealt with these two subjects at all within the narrow limits of one sonnet. Having tried unsuccessfully to write sonnets myself, I have a perhaps abnormal admiration for sonnet-writers. Had this not been so, I think I would in the end have said that this sonnet was bad. :

Technical presuppositions, by destroying the moveso precluding the emotional certainly co-operated in producing miscomprehension and negative judgments.

ment of the verse and links from developing, '

*

to

3-4. Difficult

get

unperceived

till

sound or sense

either

distinguishable from blank verse

at first reading

almost insonnet form

second reading.

Short, sharp, jerky syllables in 1

war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, . Despair, law, chance .

.

.

.

.

do not at all suit the sonnet form or the majesty which the subject calls for in its choice of a mode of expression. Thought-sequence obscure, and the condensation in the fifth line of the octet is ugly both as regards rhythm

and harmony.

The

sharp and jerky way in which he read these lines probably prevented him from taking in their sense. This poet is perhaps the slowest mover in English literature and here the trumpets are still *

blowing right down to taste death's woe '. The condensation complained of is, most likely, only his name for ignorance of Christian cosmology. The same ignorance helps to frustrate the next writer. '

*

Vigorous but obscure, particularly vigorous in the first and particularly obscure thereafter. Who is or are " you, whose eyes shall behold God, and never taste death's woe ". The last two lines lack the forcefulness so desirable at the The list in lines 6 and 7 is tedious and the close of a sonnet. 3-41.

five lines

rhymes are not perfect.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

48

A ance

reader unacquainted with the rules for attendDay of Judgment next claims our interest.

at the

3 '42. The invocation contained in the octet seems to be rather out of relation to the sextet, which is presumably the main part of the poem. Why invoke all those spirits more than others? Merely because the idea of death is in the front of the man's mind. The sextet expresses an idea which is not uncommon, and does so in a rather unsatisfactory, unconvincing way. Although I don't think I like the thing, I find something striking and even puzzling about it.

Sonority in the octet and quietness in the sextet are obviously and obviously it slows down and stumbles towards

indicated the end.

;

The same form

to

expectation that a sonnet should conaffected 3-43

some foreordained movement

The

impression I received from this passage was Rather pedestrian verse. Halting rhythm. Somehow it lets you down ". And this impression was only deepened by further consideration. I felt that the writer had aimed at a He achieves high mark, but that the arrow had fallen short. and the but no For lines, further. dignity for first four loftiness There is an then, I thought, a certain monotony creeps in. abundance of monosyllables and of trivial words, whose very 3-43.

the thought

first

"

triviality becomes evident by the failure to heighten them in the same manner as he has done in the opening four lines, namely by a noble rhythm and a deep, quiet music.

In the next extract this velleity

is

exalted to mania.

3-44. After repeated reading, I can find no other reaction except disgust, perhaps because I am very tired as I write this. The passage seems to be a rotten sonnet written in a very temperamental kind of iambic pentameter. Not even by cruel forcing and beating the table with my fingers can I find the customary five iambic feet to the verse ; the feet are frequently not iambic, and there are sometimes four, and even six accented syllables to the verse. In structure the passage sounds like the first labors of a school boy. Particularly displeasing are verses 5, 6, and 7. Yet the idea seems really worth while.

This is the first time scansion enthusiast. with his fellows later.

We

that shall

we have met

the

have more to do

POEM

III

49

Inexperience, lack of familiarity (in spite of the reference to Milton) with any but very simple verse

movements

is

probably behind 3-5 and 3-51.

3-5. The passage has a miltonic ring, and shows the usual miltonic devices (cf. w. 6, 7, where we get a list of human woes strung together to give the verses a heavy slow movement). Quite an ordinary piece of versification, neither striking nor

inspiring.

The

first point about this sonnet, which seems most that it could have been written quite, if not more, effectively in prose. Rhythm seems to be lacking.

3*51.

obvious

is

In contrast 3-6 provides us with a neat

little

object

lesson. I appreciate 3-6. I like the grand Reveille of the first 6J lines. the gentle sadness of the last yj, and the contrast, but all the same it disappoints me, I prefer feeling martial. The promise and the

beginning fizzles out. I should never bother about the sense

;

the sound

is

enough for me.

He goes very far, as far perhaps as he can get, by the purely sensuous approach. The relation of the second part to the first can only be given by the sense, and missing the sense he mistakes the feeling of the opening. Martial is hardly an apt description. His neglect of the sense is perhaps not unc

J

connected with his jejune preference. 3*7. It is impressive there are no pictures in

The

but leaves no very clear impression it.

is here not a very symwant pictures in their Those who pathetic figure. There is in them themsleves. must put poems

frustrated visualiser

nothing in this sonnet to prevent Stanley Spencer from doing with it what he pleases. After so many grumblings three tributes from readers who seem to have understood the poem may come not amiss. That they are not so rich or glowing as in the case of some of the other poems may not amount to a slight upon this sonnet. It is in the

D

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

50

nature of some performances that they leave the spectator feeling rather helpless. 3-8.

An

'

interesting fragment.

The round

earth's

imagined

'

corners annoying at the first reading but if this is a quotation from the Bible everything is all right. Contrast good between whole of first and second part. Also a most effective change from all whom war, dearth, age, agues, c you whose eyes Shall behold God, and tyrannies, etc. ; and never taste death's woe '. Here there is a mixed metaphor and The theme of the passage lifts it doesn't seem to matter much. one above such a difficulty. There is a certain humour and a very human interest about these lines. *

The

poetic part of this reader's mind probably supplied the who shall before never which un'

'

*

'

mixes the metaphor, though his commentator part stepped in afterwards to muddle him. 3-81. Has the power of a trumpet in the first eight lines. Is an impassioned outburst, and cannot be read calmly. Note the crescendo in the sixth line ending with the shrill tyrannies.' In the sestet, the voice is lowered, the poet's desire for a revelation '

changes to a sense of humility. 3-82. If the sweet slipping movement of rhythm to express a chance mood is the characteristic excellence of No. 2 that of No. 3 is the marshalling and management of large ideas within the restrictions of poetic form. The first 5 lines sweep up in increasing intensity, to culminate in the shattering list of destructions and then, masterly done, conies the pause, with '

'

the accent on the

first

word of the

line

*

But

'

and

the

whok

the level pitch of sanity and humour. Of these four pieces, this alone has the power and assurance of the poet who knows what it is that he has to say, and its value.

thing quietens off to

There was rapture of spring

in the morning told our love in the wood. For you were the spring in my heart, dear lad, And I vowed that my life was good.

When we

now in the evening, clouds overhead, lowering There's wailing of wind in the chimney-nook And I vow that my life lies dead. But

there's winter

And

For the sun may shine on the meadow lands the dog-rose bloom in the lanes, But I've only weeds in my garden, lad, Wild weeds that are rank with the rains.

And

One As

it

is for me, sweet but on the wind of the years,

solace there floats

A whisper that spring And

that

triumph

is

is

faint,

the last true thing

born of

tears.

POEM

IV

IT is sometimes convenient to regard a poem as a mental prism, capable of separating the mingled stream of its readers into a number of distinguish-

Some poems

the last, for example a large proportion of throw back merely the intellectual-moral light that is applied to them. Others, of which Poem IV is a notable example, are

able types.

scatter or

and, since they have, as it were, a high transparent refractive index, they perform their analytic function to perfection. They split up the minds which encounter them into groups whose differences may be clearly discerned. And the reasons for these differences may sometimes be made out with assurance. Here the divergent groups formed are two in ;

number, and, apart from some minor complexities not at is

all difficult

shown 4' i.

to explain, the principle of division

quite clearly.

Absolute

tripe.

Frightfully hackneyed in conception. " " suits it best. On a par with the adjective " nice " Pretty applied as a standard of character. It's a sham. Sentimentality recollected in very sentimental life indeed lay dead she would not write thoroughly enjoying herself more than It's PSEUDO, it I am. Not one tear in the whole piece. PRETENDS, its values are worthless. False coin. Low, mimic,

tranquillity. that.

like

If the girl's

Why,

she's

stuff.

4*11.

A

sigh

a great sigh, despairing

what these lines seem to mean. words and these seem to convey is

and tremulous.

That

The

sigh though is put into to us a sense of some ineffable

sorrow, too deep for words. Blighted hopes which seemed in the spring so rapturous now have sunk into the hopelessness 53

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

54

the utter hopelessness of the words

"

And

I

vow

that

my

life lies

dead." It is the very fact that the words are so quiet and yet hopeless that lends such a poignancy to it. No passionate utterance but a stony blank grief. And yet despite this in the last stanza a " faint trembling hope is put forth and this must be so for hope springs eternal in the human breast ".

Above all in this piece one some deserted ruins, stark and

feels a

keen sense, as it were, of wind moaning, the sky

bare, the

lowering and a vivid sense of decayed splendour.

Not

too often

is

One man's meat

the adage so beautifully illustrated. another man's poison.

is

4*12. An invitation to a credit for declining.

debauch which one can hardly claim

4-13. This is a fine poem written with deep, emotional feeling and a choice of words that is only possible for the genuine poet. The melancholy power of the whole is transformed into something greater by the inspiring and courageous thought of the last verse.

The very features which are the worst offence to one group are the poem's crowning glory to the other. The critical maxim When in doubt reflect whether the most glaring fault is not the prime virtue, and '

vice versa', could hardly receive a better practical

recommendation

.

Those for whom the continues. assurance given above is insufficient to guarantee the authenticity of the protocols will certainly accuse me of over- reaching myself at this point. But not a has been added or changed. syllable

The antiphony

4 14. This is such poor stuff that it hardly is worth the trouble of criticizing. The rhythm is a meaningless jog-trot, which doesn't vary or change with any change of feeling. The metaphors are taken from the usual hackneyed and most obvious forms of Nature, not always even appropriate, as in stanza 3 Sentimentality takes the place of feeling, and falls to the limit of bathos in the last verse. It has the true cheap-magazine tone. .

But the next writer

is

so persuaded to the con-

POEM trary

that he

is

able to

IV

55

certify

the absent one's

affections.

There is nothing of silly sentimentalism the love of one true heart for another. show they 4

15.

in the lines

but

all the four got me straight away. very effective indeed obviously sincere and very pleasant to read. The theme, though somewhat obvious is one that can never be hackneyed, especially when so originally and pleasantly The ending is very good and strong treated as in this case. which always is a great point. It has a lilt in it which is very

4i6. This piece alone of

It is

pleasant when reading provided

not overdone.

it is

Such exact correspondence of opposing views is strong testimony to the poem's communicative efficiIt is indeed extraordinarily successful in ency. Sometimes when widely different getting there/ views are expressed we receive the impression that, through some twist or accident in communication, different poems are being judged. But here it is evident enough that the same poem (the same primary modification of consciousness) has penetrated into these different minds. It is at a comparatively late stage of the response that the divergence begins. Thanks to this, perhaps, some of the most famous The critical dicta gain an interesting corroboration. identity, or rather the close connection, of content *

with form, for example. "

Arnold

:

The

superior

seriousness, in the matter

I

may quote Matthew

of truth and and substance of the best character

is inseparable from the superiority of diction and movement marking its style and manner. The two superiorities are closely related, and in steadfast From both sides of proportion to one another." the gulf this steadfast proportion between superior-

poetry,

ities

(and

inferiorities)

is

pointed out with equal

confidence. is very good. 42. Really first-rate. The technique in particular " Wild weeds that notices particularly the alliterations, e.g. " are rank with the rains. Again the double rhyme in the last

One

,^

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

56 line

but one

symbolical.

In the

is

very effective

One

cheerful. last

it

:

also notices the

"

"

suddenly makes the thing more

way

The rains suggest line but one, the poet

in

which various details are only one example.

tears, to take is

of course thinking that death

after all only the beginning of another life. But it is, of course, by the emotion in it that one must judge a poem. The emotion in is

this

poem

4-21.

is

strong and sincere.

Reminds me of Australian Bush

ballads.

Has

little

meaning and no musical value. A mere jingling rime, in which Life lies dead is nonsense. Too words are chosen carelessly. many unaccentuated short words hence slurring necessary in '

*

;

One expects reading. each verse.

'

trala

',

and repetition of

last

line

of

In cooler, more distant praise, the conventional abstract classification of the content matches well with the routine description of the form. with love interest and the well achieved effects philosophy. " " in the third verse is an excellent touch, weeds repetition of

422. Here

is

a pleasant, melodious

The

antithetical

lyric,

are

;

the internal riming in the third line of the fourth verse. has a swing and lilt to it which make it delightful reading. It is altogether well constructed and successful. as

is

The poem

The

of imaginatively realising the renext two readers, pondering them, the of sponses and the poem with them, until each seems the only exercise

A

few possible response, may be recommended. from into transformations the one and Hyde Jekyll the other and back again, will be found instructive. 4-23. Few things are more disgusting than cheap emotion in easy tears. No. 4 speaks of a " triumph born of expressed " and apparently wishes to express a long and painful tears If the triumph, and the tears and the passing years struggle. are linked together only because at a first glance they seem to have a pathetic significance and a vaguely poetical and romantic " " effect (and surely love in the wood/' rapture of spring," vows, lowering clouds, wailing winds, dog roses and rank weeds are the conventional trappings and catchwords of romance). No. 4 merits nothing but contempt. If the writer were actuated by intense feeling surely he was deplorably misguided to choose as his medium of expression a regular fluent metre, cant phrases and obvious rhymes. The rhymes seem to have a great influence over

POEM "

"

IV

57

means

exactly nothing but it rhymes Finally the easy antitheses spring and winter, roses and weeds etc. is fatal to any hope of real feeling behind the verses, and without sincerity poetry is an

the sense

in line 15 thing with spring so there it :

is.

impossibility. 4*24. The simplicity of this poem contrasts with the emptyheadedness of 2. Here ordinary words and images are used to celebrate the most elemental passion love, and to express faith in the comforting philosophy so well known Ode to the West Wind " If Winter

behind

"

?

The

by the

last line

of Shelley's

comes, can Spring be far metaphors are apt, and although not complicated,

they carry such a train of suggestions as must appeal to the most prosaic person.

The

third verse contains a flood of pathos,

"

floats on the wind of years reveals that genius for expression which is one of the most important characteristics of a great poet (as distinguished from a clever versifier).

emphasized by"an admirable contrast, and the

line

It will be seen that what is usually described as a difference in taste may have inexhaustible implications ; whole orders of moral and intellectual perceptions and discriminations flash into view or blur '

'

out and fade as we pass from the view of one writer And what crudities must each to that of the other. should rewriter not recognise in the other member that these sorts of differences are in the !

We

background always, even e.g., in 4-22. But where are we, and where is our personality, amid such dizzying kaleidoscopic transformations of the moral world ? We may perhaps steady ourselves a little with 4-25, which is rather more objective and has opinions upon pretence, upon love, and upon vowing. Conveys a uniformly artificial impression verse has no adequate volume of sound to impart a strong emotion and no 4*25.

cadences to express a deep one, such as is pretended to be conveyed. Altogether too jaunty an effect, with a most annoyingly regular jig-jigging rhythm. Sentimentality mistaken for the deeper One does not passion of love 1

in quite such

vow

that

my

a perfunctory way.

life lies

dead

*

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

58

Opinions about the technique of the poem and opinions about its goal or final effect here hang and if it were desired together with a rare fidelity ;

way in which the is not independent of is words received of rhythm the emotional response which their sense excites, such evidence as this should not be overlooked. But these theoretical developments may be postponed to a later page (Part III, Chapter IV). to prove, for example, that the

One

dissentient

this

upon

demands

point

in-

'

'

but the subject here spoken of is something quite remote from the content/ matter or substance which we have been considering. The here is the content regarded abstractly subject clusion

;

*

*

*

'

'

c

'

and from a

distance.

(Part III, Chapter VI, p. 263.)

4-26. The subject is serious but the treatment childishly and forcedly simple and they don't fit in with each other. "It has " lad degenerated into mere sentimentality, the use of the word " in a serious way now sounds out of place and wild weeds rank " with the rains are all right on a rubbish heap but not in

writing.

The appearance

of the

word

c

lad

'

had other con-

sequences. 4*27. Perfect adaptation of

rhythm and sound

to meaning.

there such an appeal in the poetry of dejection ? Probably the answer is partly in the last two lines and partly in the fact that it is an easy experience to get and common to all. It is rather like A. E. Housman, but better than most of his because there is less of the morbid despairing of dejection in it, and none of the macabre. It leaves no final impression of sadness, but of greatness.

Why

is

,

The same

rash

inference

from

'

lad

'

was

re-

sponsible for 4-26. It is perhaps not unnatural to feel some regret that one was not present at some of the discussions alluded to. " A Shropshire Lad " or " Last 4-28. This must be from Poems " though I cannot place it exactly. The most pleasing to me of the four. Excellent lyrical form a single idea arousing a

POEM

IV

59

single emotion that rises rapidly to the climax of the last two verses. Rhythm so pleasing that I have read and re-read solely

"

for that. Pleasing melancholy because it gives one the safe luxury " The singing quality and the unexpected second-hand. of grief internal rhyme of the last verse but one are decidedly effective. It This verse is particular reason for liking the lyric. expresses with greater skill than I have ever before found an idea

my

which I have long held and discussed with many people.

The attribution to Housman allowed this reader ' * to indulge also in the safe luxury of correct '

'

praise.

To

offset

one of the best points made may be cited.

in 4-1 the

opinion of 4-3 4-3. lines.

There is something very real about the atmosphere of these Here is a kind of naive rural simplicity, as if the lines from the heart of a country maid. Possibly by the metre, which is to a certain extent

are actually uttered this is suggested

It is difficult to express just how the verses obtain dactylic. " " their effect, but these lines find their reader more easily than

the other extracts.

The metrical suggestion does not much illumine the problem. Both points are taken further by 4-31. It is disconcerting to find him hedging, a tendency very little shown in this set of protocols. Turn, turn

4-31.

Ti This makes

me

turn

ti ti

ti ti

Turn

turn

titi

titi

Turn

ti

turn

ribald it seems so worse than a silly has a of its barrel-organ (which beauty own). Surely sorrow and loneliness are not like this ? All is correct spring, love, woods, the lad, morning winter, loneliness, house, " no lad, evening the desolate " garden of my heart and the of end. of at the sentiment out evil etc. proper good feel

Tears can drown triumph Do women feel like this? I don't. doubt of even a kitchenmaid's liking this. Perhaps in another mood this would appeal to me, so simple and so sad, and yet so brave but I cannot say. I

The personal association, the mnemonic irrelevance, might be expected to threaten this poem to an Some writers were on their guard especial degree. it against :

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

60

have a special personal association with regard to this My composition which might pre-dispose me in its favour. judgement however is that it is thoroughly bad. The author seems to me to have attempted to communicate a really valuable emotion, but he has failed completely. He has however succeeded in writing words that may justly be described as both 4'4. I

sloppy and sentimental. The metre employed suggests doggerel and the worst kind of limerick. The words themselves are badly chosen and the metaphors are conventional and unconvincing. For example the " " " " in verse i and weeds in verse 3. use of the word spring The final impression is one of Disgust. I cannot tell whether from 4-41. This to me is excellent. the things with which I associate it or from its accurate expression and its simplicity. Seasons and sun affect me more than any-

thing, and in this I can feel the spring, the best season of life and nature. It has the perfect imagery so essential to a poem on nature. Still

more

subtle

must have been the influence of

Stock Responses.

We

have, obviously, here an expression of something the 4-5. " writer really felt. The idea that hope springs eternal in the " human breast and is in fact the great attribute of the human spirit, is very aptly expressed by means of the simile, or rather One's feelings rush out to endorse here, metaphor of spring.

those last two lines ".

.

.

And

:

that spring is the last true thing " that triumph is born of tears.

Spring has always been the favourite theme of poets whose outlook what we ordinarily term Romantic '. // ty, with all its associations, the physical complement of poetry to the mind of man. I am very obscure, I suppose, but a little poem like this does do for my feelings, what spring does for flowers and birds and fields, after winter with all that it, too, presses upon the '

is

intelligence. *

One's feelings rush out.' So do comparisons, not only with The Shropshire Lad. "

Nature here used most effectively as an appui ", in manner " Love is of Lamartine and of Wordsworth (" Margaret ?). depicted with freshness of a Burns, without his sensuousness Pathos of contrast between weeds in the garden (in her heart) 4*51.

.

POEM

IV

61

and Nature's bloom. Epigrammatic conclusion, of importance. Comfort is born of affliction same lesson in Wordsworth. Fine musical rythm. Nature beautifully and faithfully depicted.

And that

the feelings that rush out may take a course only partially directed by the poem.

is *

4-52.

One

solace there

is

'

Sweet me, sweet but faint.' to sum up the whole atmosphere,

for

this seemed to me which I should also add the epithet delicate '. It is a mingling of joy and sorrow, and from this is born an emotion, at once sharper, more intense, but sweet and faint still like the caravan The music seems to rise and fall, like a breath bells in Hassan. of wind. Now strong and flaming, with the memory of love present, now sad and gentle with the memory of love past. And at the end it seems to rise to triumph, the very triumph " born of tears ". that the writer was thinking of

but faint

'

'

to

Whether the next writer of the

poem

The

4-6.

"

is

or to the author sweet

but

faint

alluding to the heroine not made clear.

is

solace

" floating

with

foolish

optimism on metaphorical winds fills me with a sense of superiority and contempt. I cannot and will not give any more attention to this effeminate weakling.

His arrogance may contrast,

finally,

with

the

humility of 4-61. 4-61.

As

(1) I

(2) I (3) I (4) I

am only 19. have never been in love. do not know what a dog-rose is. consider that spring has no rapture. tne alliteration is bad and unnecessary.

(5) this (6) will declare the

symbolism utterly worthless. whole poem to be sentimental rubbish. More detailed criticism would be foolish and futile. One reading gave me this opinion. I never hope to read it again. I

Comment

here again must be postponed until Part III, where the allied problems of Sentimentality

and Stock Responses can be

fully discussed.

What's this of death, from you who never Think you the wrist that fashioned you in

will die

?

clay,

The thumb

that set the hollow just that way In your full throat and lidded the long eye So roundly from the forehead, will let lie Broken, forgotten, under foot some day Your unimpeachable body, and so slay The work he most had been remembered by

?

you this whatever of dust to dust Goes down, whatever of ashes may return I tell

To

:

its essential self in its own season, Loveliness such as yours will not be lost, But, cast in bronze upon his very urn, Make known him Master, and for what good reason.

POEM V THE mere large

sense of this poem baffled an unusually of readers. Of 62 who returned themselves declare bewildered 17 14

number

protocols, appear to have

;

fathomed

it

that

is

to say they

have

followed its thought, made out what it says ; 7 are doubtful cases ; and 24, no less, appear not to have understood it without themselves knowing that such was the case. These figures would suggest that the poem really Yet no one who has is extraordinarily obscure. once made out the sense will easily persuade himself that this is so. But, since, at the best, only some construed readers it, and the remaining twotwenty thirds wittingly or unwittingly failed, it seems im-

by supplying a prose paraphrase least bring the central issue into due Here it is

perative to begin

which

will at

prominence. " You should not think of death, for you will not It is inconceivable that God having made you die. :

so perfect will let you perish, since you are his masterpiece. Whatever may perish, your loveliness is too great to be lost, since when God dies your image will be permanently retained as a memorial of his skill as a creator." (' You ', it may be added,

being a

The

human

being.)

strain of believing that this really

is the sense of a piece written with such aplomb explains the bewilderment and the failure to construe which mark so many of the protocols. What we think of it as sense is, however, not the important point here, but

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

64

rather the general question of the place of the plain prose sense, or thought, in poetry. No general rule, of course, can be laid down. Every case must be judged on its own merits, and the particular structure of the poem under judgment must be fully taken into account. There are types of poetry (Swinburne's Before the Mirror for example) where the argument, the interconnection of the thought, has very little to do with the proper effect of the poem, where the thought may be incoherent and confused without harm, for the very simple reason that the poet is not using the argument as an argument, and so the incoherence may be negThere are other types where the effect of lected. the poem may turn upon irrationality, where the

which arise from recognising inand contradiction are essential parts compatibility of the poem. (Not always mirthful feelings they special

feelings

;

may be

Compare the close desperate or sublime. of Marvell's The Definition of Love.} But this poem belongs to neither of these types. Since the hyperbole of this particular beauty as God's memorial is worked in twice at the two most salient places of emphasis, there can be little doubt that a full comprehension of it is necessary to the reading of the poem. This thought is really an essential part of the structure, and the poem has to accept whatever risks are implied by this fact. The core, or turningpoint of the poem is in the emotional effects of this culminating thought as realised. If this is so, the various struggles of the protocolwriters with the thought are instructive. First, those who knew that they did not understand may be represented. Failure of communication, as after the 5-1. No appeal to me. 2Oth reading the nature of the addressee was still obscure. 5*12. I don't understand whether the poet is addressing a

woman, or a

statue.

POEM V

65 *

The

interesting assumption that the unimpeachable body must be a woman's, not a man's, may be noted in passing. It frequently reappears. '

5-13. I find the or a statue

woman

poem ?

Is it a living unintelligible as it stands. title reconcile the last two lines.

A

/ cannot

would possibly have saved the

situation.

The

expression

is

otherwise curiously excellent. The subject is viewed as by a painter or sculptor. The thought compact and forcible, somewhat suggestive of Browning.

How

the thought, though unintelligible, can be recognised as compact and forcible is rather a Probably the writer meant that the mystery. as though this were so, which is sounds expression a true and important observation indicating that the sense here is not irrelevant to the full reading of the poem. Actually, as some readers will point out, compactness is hardly a character of this sonnet. The same willingness to accept the envelope in place of the contents is shown again and again. even impossible to grasp. the wrist of God, or merely of " " and the It is hard to reconcile the clay " thumb that set the hollow ", of the first few lines, with the " " of the last lines. The sonnet, cast in bronze upon his very urn In constructed. is it, the voice gradually reading however, finely the octave, and sinks to the close. The thought swells 5-14. I

found

the poet's idea difficult

Was the " wrist that a human sculptor ?

fashioned

"

throughout

evidently a splendid one, but sonnet fails in its object.

is

it is

obscurely expressed,

and the

evidently ought to be a splendid one, with the manner of the sonnet this accord to

The thought if it is

;

the reflection that dominated many judgments. The readers' pathetic distrust of their own power to construe, to penetrate through to the content, their the splendid thought, inability to work out and grasp is

a point that educators will recognise as crucial. But not all those who approved the thought withit were wooed thereto by the glamour out is

mastering

of the expression. E

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

66

"

"

mean ? cast in bronze upon his very urn does phrase seems unfortunate, bringing one to a sharp stop, seeking the meaning. A good point (for immortality}, well worked " What's out and well put : but is the expression very high ? " is not very felicitous, tho' perhaps a striking this of death " " I tell you this gives a very prosy impression. opening. On the other hand the whole idea is well communicated by the poem, which leaves a sense of satisfaction and completeness, mostly on account of the last two lines, puzzling as is perhaps " " urn the phrase mentioned above. I always feel attracted to religious poetry, and anxious to get the best out of it.

What

5-15.

The

*

'

The

search for the meaning did not go very far. interesting to know what exactly the whole idea was for this reader, and how the argument for immortality runs, and for what kind of Other writers will later shed some immortality. more light upon all this. Whatever it was, it probably had a great deal to do with the popularity of the It

'

would be '

poem. But the confident

air of the sonnet, by creating a favourable atmosphere of approach ', as textvery books of salesmanship say, was also influential. '

Pm

is a good sonnet, but it takes a lot of getting rhythm, and the words please me immensely, but in spite of many readings I have not yet arrived at its precise meaning. Obviously the lady will die, physically, but whether her loveliness is to be preserved in the minds of others or actually in bronze is more than I can fathom. The octave points to the latter, but the sestet seems to confuse the issue.

5'i6.

at.

/

sure this

like the

'

Both appeals, the superficial rhythm and the idea ', may be seen combined. 5-17. I

am

not quite sure whether the person addressed is the a great sculptor, or a beautiful human communication is not quite clear.

most famous statue of being.

The

the poem very much. It expresses an idea, with which I heartily agree, but which is, perhaps, not new, in a very satisfactory way. It has some body to it. The form I also like. The words and the rhythm are very good. I cannot tell quite how it should be read.

But

I like

POEM V

67

Such shivering on the brink of understanding, such coy reluctance to plunge into the depths of ideas which, if liked so much, should surely prove more attractive, is very suspicious. In some of these surface-gazers, general or constitutional triviality and lack of enterprise may be explanation enough. But Narcissism and an intellectual timidity or inhibition based on a sense that things will not bear looking into and are best left alone are often co-operating *

'

factors.

Some

of the bewildered brought objections to the sense. The next writer must find of parts Genesis ii. 21 very risible, but he puts his finger upon a difficulty in the poem that few commented upon, the shift from the immortality of the individual suggested by the opening to the mere eternity of beauty later on. I 5*18. I don't like the general atmosphere of the poem. " " Master God ? really don't understand it. Is the If so it is ludicrous to imagine him thumbing a hollow in some-

" " Master is a sculptor, someday he will body's throat. If the " " have to let lie, broken, forgotten, underfoot the unimpeachable " " loveliness the even lives. The if body poem presumably

an extract

seems to contradict

itself

and

is irritating.

The failure to recognise a sonnet before and shall meet again.

we have met

More

curious are those many instances in which the reader is unaware that his interpretation does not exhaust the possibilities. 5-2. Quite an ingenious way of saying that the artist has made a cast of a beautiful woman. The opening is good the working

up

to the climax, too, sustained by the questions. " " I tell you this almost necessary to

The

recover one's

but so unnecessary otherwise. Ending very weak. " I like the way he expresses the moulding so roundly from the forehead ". But the wrist and thumb idea is dropped carelessly, although the sense is never obscure. Words well chosen, and rhythm carries the sense along with it. breath

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

68

5*21. I do not like this sonnet; it has no deep thought for sense tells us that a statue will not die.

common

Read with

this sense the poem did not meet with favour, though some of the objections made to seem hardly less arbitrary than the reading.

much it

5-22. This gives the impression that it was written as an The exercise and does not suggest genuine or deep emotion. the reader to with it not is carry strong enough along feeling

and so he

'

'

notices that the

body

'

'

held up and that he is created seems rather a waste of courtly

is

from a wrist and thumb. It all and artificial compliments such as unimpeachable and loveliness such as yours on stocks and stones, while the second half of the last line is almost enough to damn the whole piece. '

'

'

'

But most readers did not attempt so close a grip upon the meaning of the poem. A more general response to a traditional theme contented them. 5-3.

The thought

in this sonnet

is

noble and well expressed,

From beginning to the theme being that Beauty will never die. end the thought is clear and the form is impeccable.

This was the most popular theme, but others sometimes served as well. Its significance depends 5-31. I like this sonnet very much. on the close connection which it presumes between physical and spiritual beauty, and this connection is one of the factors which make me think it is by Rossetti, since in his ideal world of

always held. the second part of the poem. art, the connection

I

like

the triumphant note of c

'

These seem to express parts of the whole idea mentioned above (5-15). As we might expect other handlings of the more popular theme are recalled. 5-32. Reminds me of Keats' glorious Ode to the Nightingale, " Thou wast not born for especially of the verse beginning The thought expressed is one which most of us feel ". death,

We feast (our eyes) on some lovely and groan at the idea of the not animate, necessarily object, dusty road to death engulfing so much loveliness and at length we burst out into remonstrance, and, if we have little time to spare, we either resign ourselves to the inevitable or console ourselves with the philosophy of John Keats. at some time in our lives.

POEM V This poem expresses, an

69

a passionate remonstrance and which, if not polished, is at least

at once,

inspiring hope, in verse effective.

Such comparisons may have a positive or a negaSometimes the other poetry that is recalled assists the reader to make the best he can out of the poem that is before him. But equally often tive effect.

these recollections, rationally or irrationally, are a stumbling-block. This dual possibility recurs whenever a poem seems to (or actually does) treat a stocksubject or invite a stock-response. Two readers at least, who appear to have grappled more closely with this sonnet, are as much hindered by their recollections of Keats as the last writer was helped. 5-33. Keats expressed the message of this poem in much " simpler and yet quite as effective language when he wrote thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Its loveliness increases, it will

A

never pass into nothingness To me the poem seems ." grandiloquent rather than grand. The obvious truth of the sentiment expressed seems to be wrapt in unnecessary difficulties and the meaning of the last two lines, presuming they have a meaning, is quite lost to me. .

.

5-34. The opposition of the ideas of beauty and death is not unusual but the expression in the octet is admirable. I cannot understand the last two lines of the sestet and the third line in the sestet appears to me to be clumsy. The underlying idea is " A thing of beauty valuable but is not so well expressed as in is

a joy for ever

"

etc.

So, too, with the emotional response which follows the presentation of the theme. Very different feelings are recorded. 5*35. This poem is a good one because it is a sincere expression of the writer's feeling, and this feeling is one of exalted worship. Whether the belief is true or false, we rise to something great.

5-36. I cannot decide definitely about this

poem.

Its

expression

simply marvellous, but the thing expressed is to me false I recognise the poem as a consolation for which I have no use. fine expression of a certain way of looking at things, but it is to me an inadequate way, and therefore I do not hesitate to put is

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

70

the

poem

aside.

Perhaps

because

it is

I feel

the poet

is

trying

to argue the point.

Yet we find other readers,

who

are

more responsive

5-37. I like

less exigent intellectually,

:

both the thoughts and the way they are expressed.

For a

sceptic

carries

him towards

as I

is

it

one of the few trains of thought that Expressed with great

belief in immortality.

conviction.

One wonders what kind

of immortality this sceptic or persuaded towards, exactly what comfort the next reader desires. Private poems due to Stock Responses are almost certainly the explanation in is

both cases. 5*38. Someone, fearing death, has expressed his doubts to the This poet and the poet has, in consequence, written a solace. " out of sight message of comfort sweeps away any cynical belief in 9 out of mind and states that "loveliness will not be lost", but '

be cast in bronze on an urn in Heaven, will be eternally " is it likely that God would remembered. The thought that " have made you so comely and beautiful just to destroy you ? it offers comfort to those who have is not a common one death does not seem so their doubts about the next world dreadful. The last six lines which form the solace of the poem, are said with such calm assurance that the troubled mind has its fears allayed, and, as the lines seem to run more smoothly, and soothingly to the end, they cause a placidity of will

;

spirit.

the doctrinal problem, the place and importance of beliefs in poetry, is in need of discussion. Several writers indeed either state or imply a view upon this most difficult general problem. It is plain that

5-4. A sonnet expressing a sense of the permanence of beauty. Connected with a sense of the immortality behind things even human and material, and with a sense of a definite power which a good reason '. The poem creates beauty for a given purpose is interesting from this point of view, though it is not an un'

familiar thought.

and expressed by

It is all

both the explanation forms of art.

of

and

indeed a thought common

them

in

to all poets It is

some way or another.

the justification of poetry itself as of all

POEM V

71

This writer's interpretation of the last words of the sonnet and for what good or reason is rather too bold, but his view of the beliefs supposed to give rise to poetry is very common. It is elaborated, with an added note of nervous asceticism, in 5-41, where some misgivings lest doctrine should too much intrude are also shown. '

'

5*41. This aesthetic conviction of immortality was most probably written by some sculptor or artist poet who could fully appreciate the joy of creation. The poet's pleasure in physical beauty is very sincere. The note of sensuality which one might have expected in such an admirer is entirely absent because the poet is thinking rather of the creator's satisfaction in contemplating the thing he has created than of the emotional effect beauty has on people. The poet has put himself in God's place, or rather he has considered Him as a sculptor whose name can only be perpetuated by the creations of His hands. The poet has the religion of the artist who sees the beauty and glory of God in Nature and in this poem what religious ideas do enter are made very subservient to the glorification of the person to whom the poem is addressed.

Troubled by the same doubts as to how far doctrine is admissible in poetry, two writers advance the state of mind or mood solution of the difficulty. If poetry only expresses a state of mind or mood ', the thoughts presented, it is suggested, need not be examined on their own account. This suggestion perhaps disposes of those who boggle at the truth of the thought, but not of those whose objection is to its intellectual or emotional incoherence. '

'

*

'

'

'

'

5*42. Here is a hopeful state of mind expressed in verse. It is an attractive poem. It seems rather a pity to dissociate the opinions expressed in it from the impression made by the verse The opinions are a little religious the religion that loveliitself. ness cannot die. If the question must be discussed, I believe that people's bodies must die, however perfect they may be though loveliness in one form or another always remains in the world. On the other hand, mind-loveliness remains as the real

You must accept the truth of change in your body. Verse form quite good. This is not a didactic poem that's why it doesn't matter very much about the discussion of the

thing.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

72

opinions in it. people but just

I

it was definitely state of mind.

don't think

to express

a

meant

to teach

Probably any mention of anything mentioned in religion reader. 5*43.

would make a passage

The

it

probably

is,

me

for

this

extreme definiteness a mood only. I think because a man who could write this, however

attraction to

and conviction.

religious

It

may be

fervently he believed that "

of this

is

its

the expression of

"

loveliness such as

yours will not be " "

would yet scarcely hold as his real creed that any body " The work He most had however unimpeachable would be been remembered by ". But its being only the expression of a mood this doesn't matter because for the moment the mood has / can find no trace of a pose assumed for complete domination the writing of the sonnet. The sonnet form is peculiarly felicitous because a very definite form is thus used for a very definite idea. I think the impression I have received of a slightly careless lost

:

so that the reader may visualise a man technique is intentional too eager to express his thoughts and emotions to pause over the exact words he uses. ;

One is tempted to inquire what it was that set this writer looking for traces of a pose. rather susdisclaimer. picious The general problem of doctrine in poetry will be it is enough here to have noted the discussed later influence of its attendant difficulties upon judgment of this poem. By way of transition to opinions about the detail of the language and handling 5-5 may be

A

;

given. 5-5. I feel the rather desperate endeavour of the poet to throw believe in her loveliness the reader into an attitude of belief.

To

and immortality is essential to the I am no more than a spectator. Generally, I can believe in

realisation of the experience.

loveliness such as yours will never die but specifically, the loveliness perishes.

think

you the wrist

that set the hollow just that

these

are

way

of style not genuine : self-conscious, too, is " unimpeachable ". Isn't the finger too evident ? / tell you tricks

POEM V

73

is not quite genuine I feel from Here, quite Miltonic weight of statement Make known him Master and for what good reason. Here, spilling over, without much need

this

too

heavy

that the style

the continual change.

in

its

own

season

But what

really prevents my belief in the immortality narrowing, specific, quite miniature picture of immortality

cast in

the

is

bronze upon an urn.

True, God's urn, but concrete and the

figure merely decorative.

This reader clearly followed the thought of the to the end. The two examples of that follow do not make this so apparent praise

poem through

;

'

they confine themselves to questions of

treatment

'.

not particularly good English or a very has a youthful directness about it, a clear incisiveness which makes it very attractive. It is, I think, fairly it has his touch, or the touch of obviously, by Rupert Brooke his school about it. It is utterly unemotional, being more like a description of a picture, or a bust being worked by god the sculptor, than a sonnet to a girl he loves. It has the irregularity common to nearly all Brooke's sonnets, whether he wrote it or I like it because it has no veiled or obscure nonsense about not. it : it is direct and striking, but oh how cold 5-51. I like this

fine

sonnet, but

it is

:

it

:

!

5*52.

A

rhythm.

strong, Browningesque vein both in substance and "

I

like

your unimpeachable

"

certainly gets across ". to the extreme. Ugly

intentionally so. '

It

body

The poem

".

however,

is

But,

disturbing I

believe,

Hobbes

What

prints blue, straight he turtle eats. fished the murex up :

porridge had John Keats

'

?

leaves one with a sense of strength,

to physical brute force ; the earth, earthy '.

Such

last line,

and flat and banal. reminds one of

Who The poem

The

studies

in

amounting almost something rugged, something clean. Of '

manner divorced from matter

rarely go further than those which show the converse bias in the choice of approach. To consider either

treatment or content exclusively is a means of keeping at a distance from the actual poem. Two who, on the

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

74

whole, admired the poem, did attempt to come closer, and both note in its obscurity an added relish, though on other points they contradict one another. whole 5-53. On first reading, without fitting together the grammatically, meaning and spirit is caught. Bold start uneven, :

forceful

rhythm

(human, intimate, though so rapid) Saxon words with bold, unrestrained :

imagery

;

absence of colour chiefly Latin interpolations all give clarity, vigour, cleanness, virility, etc. Absence of least artifice, but natural suggestion of sounds "full throat forgotten''. Perfect, unfaltering conviction. Thus matter and general effect ultimately is fine. But is whole :

:

.

.

.

raised or degraded

by uneven quality of

(a)

rhythm,

(b)

sense

?

But all most difficult to render. (a) Lines i, 7, 9, 10, 14 although marred as verse, it gains a conversational, intimate, forceful note. (b)

Sense obscure on

limpidity,

a

"

it

"

tang

first

But if it lacks to crack, take on

reading (8, 9-11, 14).

by becoming something of a nut

does,

an enticement.

But is it artistically better or worse ? appreciate, but rather a puzzle than a poem.

Worse

easier to

5-54. In the first part of the poem / do not think the description of the woman's beauty sufficiently vivid and living to make one " " realise the terrible tragedy of beauty broken and forgotten which is so simply and masterfully conveyed by the next lines. If it were not for the last two lines of the poem one would be inclined to take the poem literally and the thought of the poem would degenerate into a pathetic defiance of the laws of nature giving one nothing but a sense of unrest. The last 2 lines I think show that the poet is thinking of beauty as being a high ideal which is never lost and which is in itself a revelation of the Divine thought.

The poem mask when

is

the thought the poem is

simple in language and

this simplicity tends to in the first reading but adds to the effect any way more closely studied.

How far this closer study really carried the writer towards a comprehension of the last two lines is a point which can, I think, be fairly clearly made out. Another,

who

finds

much

in the detail to admire, this original feature of

shows us the trouble that the poem caused him. also

POEM V

75

5-55. There is a crescendo in this sonnet made more effective by the restraint of its language. The first lines with their long

vowel sounds move slowly and melodiously. In the first four lines of the sextet the movement quickens and the passionate intensity is admirably rendered by the additional syllables and * the prevalence of S sounds in it culminates in the quick monosyllables will not be lost.' Then follow the slower, more impressive two last lines to mark the final close. The thought is clear enough but for the last two lines, where " " " the sense of his very urn that containing means " " " presumably the ashes of the dead and for what good reason is not at first '

'

very clear.

The

which aims

at

defect of these lines is more apparent in a poem communicating a line of action. Throughout the moulded image and the human body are present in the thought, the word slay giving just the trend towards the living. '

More

hostile

meaning

is

5-56.

in a sonnet

'

though as much

The

virtue of a

at fault '

over the *

definite division

a tenet firmly held by many. Its disdoubtless to be put to the credit of teaching. With a thousand other equally arbitrary and misleading snippets of critical dogma it might well be exchanged for a little more training in the That for what construing of ordinary English. reason is urn almost as as the troublesome good is a fact that should make all members of the teaching

tribution

is

is

'

'

'

'

professions ponder. This

is not absolutely commonplace, though the conceit a favourite one for millemums. The expression is Browningian, with forced words to ensure a rime, e.g., slay, a most unsuitable word. The metaphor at first suggests a potter " in (in 2nd and 3rd lines), and the abrupt introduction of " " "

5-56.

has been

your

full

throat

able,

but

it

is toleris disconcerting. Unimpeachable suggests that striving after effect which typifies some modern poetry. The construction of the sonnet is excellent, as there is a definite The sestet is not so good as the octave, as there is division. " Cast in bronze upon his obscurity in the next to last line " " does his refer ? to very urn." Who Presumably the Master, but it is not clear. " " is a strikingly prosaic ending. and for what good reason One suspects the power of " season " earlier on.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

76

Just as arbitrary in his conceptions of sonnet form another writer whose capacity to construe is on much the same level. is

The writer seems to be trying to write a sonnet on some theme about which, no doubt, he thinks deeply. But It seems certainly the result of his effort is not very pleasing. 5-57.

lofty

he is incapable of expressing clearly his thoughts. On reading, the various sentences seem detached and it is (at first) rather difficult to see wherein lies the connection between the various phrases but after a further reading the meaning of as if

first

;

the first eight lines can be extracted. I consider that a sentence of seven lines, relieved only by commas, is rather unwieldy and

clumsy for a sonnet, and the general impression of the first eight and disunity. The sextet is considerably worse. Even if one supplies a mark of interrogation after the " " one still has to explain the and for what good reason phrase the It seems to have no connection with significance of phrase. lines is that of clumsiness

the rest of the sonnet. "

"

his very urn to be a misprint for / still fail to see the use of the urn.

Taking

"

this

very urn

",

have illustrated at some length these failures to construe because of their overwhelming practical importance. When such a very humble yet indisI

pensable part of a reader's equipment is defective we need hardly be surprised if more difficult critical endeavours meet with ill-success. Practical remedial measures are not impossible if the need for them is once frankly recognised. And to make this need evident I have risked some monotony. However much it may be thought that there was ultimately nothing in this sonnet to construe, no meaning to arrive at and I have admitted the strain put upon us by the contrast of its air and its actuality none the less a reader ought to be able to tackle it. He ought to be given better defensive technique against the multifold bamboozlements of the world. He need not be as helpless as these extracts show him to be. I have not, however, nearly exhausted the material that lies before me. But we may pass on to other questions.

POEM V

The sincerity of the poem matter, see Part III, Chapter pronouncements. rhythm.

Some

77

always a troublesome occasioned varied attempted to judge by the

VII

The restrained yet passionate utter5-6. Marked by sincerity. ance of a lover. Style full of vigour simple yet forcible language, " the very opposite of false poetic diction ". The irregularity of the metre emphasises the sincerity and passion, giving the impression of emotion trying to break through the control which verse imposes it lays a heavier stress on some words, as in line i and in this way gives more force and reality to the whole. :

:

,

But the rhythm of most verse

is so closely dependthe the rest of upon response that this excellent Another reader who reached the test may mislead. same result (and illustrates again the sonnet-form

ent

dogma above

noticed)

incidentally

propounds

a

puzzling and interesting question. 5-61. This sonnet is a very fine one. The break between the octet and sestet is very pronounced. The rhythm of the octet is

faster

speaker

than that of the sestet and denotes the impetuosity of the his great admiration for the subject of the poem.

and

The hyperboles lavished on the subject are however very conventional and the worth of the sonnet and its genuineness depends largely on the time it was written. It does not seem false however by the rhythm.

The mere

date of a poem cannot by itself settle its genuineness, in the sense of its sincerity. All it can do is to offer presumptive evidence for or against. poet may very well write an entirely sincere poem in the manner of a different age, but on the whole the It is only a probability is strongly against this.

A

it is enough to make probability, however, though aid to judgment. of a date a useful knowledge poem's

The

can only be made through a closer, with the poem itself. And only in this can the rhythm test be applied. The two writers, it will be noticed, disregard the final decision

fuller, contact fullest contact last

thought,

paying attention

rather

to

the

passion-

,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

78

broken and impetuous utterance of the poet. But these characters are far more easily mimicked than the deeper movements of thought and feeling. Compared with coherence, incoherence is a stunt '. To gain order and control is the poet's difficulty ; not '

to express agitation

;

and what they praise may not

be a merit. 5-7.

to be

The whole thing seems somehow laboured. There seems a conscious striving after effect, after the striking word and "

"

Unimpeachable body is a bit too far-fetched. something would-be passionate about the whole thing

phrase. is

;

There it

does

not ring quite true. 5*71. I do not think this successful, because the writer is not he is playing with himself convinced in what he is expressing an idea, rather than expressing a conviction. It is the off-hand manner of the poem which leads me to make this criticism the absence of awe and reverence which should co-exist with religious feeling. It is especially noticeable in the " " first two lines of the last six, and in the word unimpeachable which when used in this way suggests a sneer. :

:

These suspicions that all was not as it should be, that a flashy fa9ade rather than a solid building was being erected before them, that a bright thought was being aired rather for its supposed originality and daring than for what it was, troubled several more readers. Only two however, coupled these suspicions with detailed observation of the matter and manner ,

of the poem and seek in criticism.

it

is

these observations which

we

me that these four poems have been chosen play for easily touched off and full-volumed responses, and so are in danger of sentimentality and kindred vices. This one offers cheap reassurance in what is to most men a matter of deep and intimate concern. It opens with Browning's brisk no-nonsense-about-me directness and goes on with a cocksure movement and hearty alliteration. It contains (along with " the appropriate dust to dust ") echoes of all the best people. It is full of vacuous resonances (" its essential self in its own season ") and the unctuously poetic 5 '8. It

seems

because they

to

all

.

POEM V

79 *

'

orgasm from a Shakespeare-R. Brooke from a as Marvell-Wordsworth-Drinkwater, piece 7 complex, etc., stark -simplicity complex. Hollow at first reading, resoundingly hollow at second. A sort of thermos vacuum, the very thing for a dignified picnic in this sort of Two-Seater sonnet. The Heroic Hectoring of line i, the hearty quasi stoical buttonholing of the unimpeachably-equipped beloved, the magisterial Via such conduits magnafinger-wagging of I tell you this nimity may soon be laid on as an indispensable, if not obligatory, 5-81.

This

is

a studied

*

'

'

'

'

'

*

*

!

modern convenience.

!

Margaret, are you grieving

Over Goldengrove unleafing

Ah

?

grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Tho' world of wanwood leafmeal lie !

And

Now

as the heart

yet

you

will

no matter,

;

weep and know why.

child, the

name.

Sorrow's springs are the same. Nor mouth had, no, nor mind expressed, What heart heard of, ghost guess 'd :

man was born

It is the blight It is Margaret you

mourn

for.

for,

POEM

VI

BOTH

response and opinion here divide with a pleasneatness. Furthermore, all stages of the cleavage ing are well shown. If some of the other protocol sets have something of the wildness and unexpectedness, the untidiness and bizarrity, of industrialised hillcountry, or the variety of a rich but ill-tended garden, this set, on the other hand, has the soothing simplicity of a demonstration in elementary geology. The incipient crack to pursue the metaphor a little way and the forces that provoke it appear in 6-1. This writer might, later on, be found on either side of the gulf. He is sufficiently susceptible

and

sufficiently

impatient to have landed himself

anywhere. 6-i. Has a decided fascination for me, but it is an irritating I can't be quite sure I rather than a satisfactory fascination. have grasped the meaning. One reading I really feel I do understand it, but at the next reading I am not sure that I am not completely on the wrong tack after all. Part of the fascination is the balanced alliterative rhythm and rhyme scheme, but at the same time that is part of the irritation because I find myself attending exclusively to the sound and general feel of the wordpattern regardless of the sense. Finally / cannot make up my mind whether or not I understand it or whether or not I like it.

Rather more pertinacity, and perhaps more telligence, carry 6-12 over to the positive side.

in-

He

shows a prudent awareness of some of the dangers of this poetic theme and a due sense of what their avoidance implies. 6-12. I have not I

should

F

like to.

had time

"

attack It conveyed little to to

81

"

this

me on

poem the

as

first

much

as

reading,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

82

now

but

I like

it,

No. 8

as that of

expression of a

and think the sentiment as good and genuine spurious and false. I think it is a beautiful

is

mood

often expressed in poetry that of the poet its future, and I think that, as

watching a child, and thinking of

mood

the it

a

is

is

one that particularly lends for a poet to give us

triumph

rendering of

itself to false sentiment, a and impressive

new

it.

Since so

readers did not succeed in applying

many

their intelligence, a paraphrase kindly supplied by one writer may be inserted here. It will help moreover to bring out an interesting double-reading that

the seventh line of the

poem

lends

itself to.

understand this poem at first. After good deal I have come to the conclusion an elderly man, experienced in that this is the meaning of it such matters, has found a girl grieving at the falling of leaves 6-13. It

difficult to

is

thinking about

in

it

a

autumn.

He shows that she

not longer have the same quick sensitiveshe will no longer be able to grieve for such things (Cf. lines 2-4). Then she will weep, but this time, not for such things as the falling leaves in autumn, but because she can no longer have such feelings the feelings of youth.

when

ness

she

is

will

old

And yet you will weep and know why '). Even now in weeping at the transience of the things she enjoys in autumn, she is really weeping for the transience of all things. She is mourning '

(Cf.

among

other things, for the fleetingness of her

own

youth.

The other and the preferable reading of the line is indicated in 6-2 where an admirable power of detailed analysis

is

displayed.

This poem shows great

skill and I think it is by far the of the four. The more I read it the more I find I did not really in it grasp its whole meaning till I had made about three attacks on it and even now I am not sure I thoroughly understand it. / do not think this is because it is obscure, but because it requires a special reading ; the accenting of the seventh line is particularly important the accent falls on will weep

6-2.

most

difficult

;

'

*

'

know why '. The way the poem

and

is written I admire I like the greatly. simple opening and closing couplet, the one answering the other. The first six lines begin at a low pitch and then rise at Ah as the heart grows older ', only to fall again in the sixth line. I like the even accentuation of the sixth line. Then there is great *

1

POEM

VI

83

control of vowel music, the more open vowels where the voice i introduced in rises in the third and fourth lines ; the vowel * sights is made much of in the next line, and a triple rhyme made '

'

'

on is

'

There is a breathing sigh in By and by, nor spare a sigh '. I like the whole idea of the poem, and I think the last couplet excellent, giving the poem universal application and making it.

this specially refer to

Margaret.

That the author of the poem was aware of the possible alternative readings of the seventh line

shown by an accent-mark he

originally

is

placed on

'

will

'.

And

yet

you

will

weep and know why.

This mark I omitted, partly to see what would happen, partly to avoid a likely temptation to irrelevant discussions. Without it, will may be read *

'

as giving the future tense, as 6-13 in fact reads *

Then

'

'

it. '

the accents may fall on weep and on and the sense being that in the future she will know the reason for a sorrow that is now only a blind grief. When will is accentuated it ceases to be an auxiliary verb and becomes the present tense of the ;

'

verb

'

'

to

will

She

'.

persists

in

weeping and

in

demanding the reason for the falling of the leaves, and perhaps also for her grief. The rhythmical difference made by the change of sense is immense. Both the sense and the movement rejected by the poet are very good, however, and doubtless some readers will privately retain them. But because the authentic version is perhaps better still the hint given by the accent-mark ought to be retained. The swing over from one reading

to another (without perhaps sufficient

appreciation of the 6'2i. I

"

like

this

first) is

best of

Golden grove unleafing "

lie

is

"

remarked upon in 6-21.

all.

and

"

What

looks

like preciosity

world of wanwood leafmeal

a means of compression. I was puzzled at first " " " in I took will and yet you will weep and to be future. Wistfulness without sentimentality

really

reading because "

know why

the pang of transience well conveyed.

:

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

84

How much the poem conveyed to those who admitted it will appear from the next two protocols. It will be noticed that few of our chosen poems evoke praise of such quality even when most admired. 6-22. Excellent, the emotions of sorrow and forlornness lose nothing in communication ; I have never experienced them more

poignantly, and could not imagine myself doing so, than in Rhyme words are the (intellectually and reading the poem. emotionally) important ones both separately and in their pairs.

Tl^T

fi

[

very strong associations.

nor mind expressed J ghost guessed " " }

Rhythm and with

The

last

sense

(scientific) inseparable.

By and by

"

Tho' world of wan wood leafmeal

two

nor spare a sigh

Contrast

lilt

of

"

"

lie."

lines stick in the throat like real sorrow.

The praise here of the rhymes is worth noting, for our rhymesters, as indeed always happens whenever the least opportunity occurs, were not slow to pounce upon the opening and the close, though I am not, this time, illustrating these antics. 6-23. Unless really soaked "in, would pass unnoticed. Sounds all " strikes note, colour and sadness. Margaret

through. way "

Golden grove unleafing "

leafmeal Belle

Dame

full, soft.

"

Tho world J

of

wanwood " La

gloriously melancholy (worthy of Keats'

sans Merci").

Last two lines especially rhyme.

7, 9, n, jar unless read most sympathetically : they can made to sound in perfect keeping with rest. Sound, sense,

Metre be

lie

"

:

rhythm and rhyme really wonderfully interwoven. Freedom of words (wanwood leafmeal, unleafing) and the newness of the with its strange simplicity, lend distinction, intimacy, whole :

Not the least particularising detail, therefore its spontaneity. " Golden grove ", is universal : yet subtle strokes like appeal " " airy nothing ". Margaret ", remove any suggestion of the It has conveyed to me a Perfect melancholy, perfect artistry. sentiment as completely as very few poems have ever done before.

POEM This reader

VI

85

mistaken in his opening remark. soaked in the poem, yet had plenty to say about it. Another paraphrase at this point may make the poem seem more confusing and so assist us. is

Many who by no means

'

'

6-3. It took me a long time to find out what was being said, and even now I am not sure that my solution is correct. The poem " reminds me of Browning's remark of one of his poems When I wrote this God and I only knew what it meant, now, God only knows/' Margaret is grieving over the falling leaves, and she is told that there are other sights colder than this, meaning death, which

when she when she

gets older she will not even sigh for ; yet she will weep realises that all of us like leaves must die. Her mouth

and her mind had neither expressed this idea of death which she felt at heart in a vague way. Man was born to die, and she The poem might have been expressed is mourning for herself. far more intelligibly without loss of any charm or impression. A great contrast to No. 5 where death is made light of here it is regarded dismally. 6-31. I read this ten times without finding any meaning in it Either I am, or the writer is, more little attraction.

and very

than usually idiotic, but I really am quite unable to digest this doughy, heavy, obscure, indigestible and unsustaining piece of whatever it is meant to be.

We may

remind ourselves here that these are the and professed students of English. of serious opinions

A

6-32. The thought is worthless, and nonsensical conglomeration of words.

hopelessly

muddled.

Expressed

in

jerky,

disconnected phrases, without rhythm.

Blank bewilderment and helpless inability to comprehend either the sense or the form of the poem naturally gave rise to irritation. 6*33. This is difficult to read and difficult to understand, and not worth the effort to understand it. I find it impossible to the poem merely annoys me recreate the poet's experience :

when

I try.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

86

There doesn't seem It is

most

difficult to

"

are

to be the least vestige

Such

scan or to read.

of a metrical scheme. lines as

Nor mouth had, no, nor mind expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed "

to put anybody off from reading shouldn't have done except for this

it

enough

I certainly

Excuses were suggested

a second time.

test.

:

6'34. If this is an extract we ought to have more of it to judge If not, there is probably some biographical information

from.

needed.

I frankly don't

And many

understand

it.

explanations offered

:

me, is a jumble of ideas, most badly expressed. poet is apparently sermonising in words, in order that the reader shall exercise his ingenuity. The whole thing is cramped in thought and expression. It is not surprising that a poet of " It is very this kind considers himself born for a blight ". annoying being told that the name in the 8th line does not matter. It would be so delightful to know. It might be a part of a dialogue, in which one lunatic addresses another. I presume this is typically modern-born in the little philosophy which I can gather. And in the style, the only aim of which seems to be to baffle the reader. 6'35. This, to

The

*

'

What does

all this mean ? Margaret has apparently been very sensibly, finding solace in the autumn tints of golden-grove. Whereat the poet tells her, by way of comfort, nor that as she gets older she will get accustomed to sorrow, " But This a '. has been a dream. naturally spare only sigh you're feeling it a bit. Never mind, my dear. You'll get over

6-36.

jilted

and

is,

'

We all do". But I should like was born for '.

it.

to

know

precisely

what

is

the

*

blight

man

Tenderness for Margaret prompted further complaints

:

637. This is the worst poem I have ever read. It is vague and incoherent, and does not appeal to any of my senses, except my sense of humor. The parent or whoever it is who is advising Margaret is a bitter, hard individual who seems to be trying to I don't take away all the hope and happiness of the child. think that any really kind person would feel so little sympathy

POEM for a child's trivial sorrow, and her that the worse is yet to come.

"

VI

87

make her unhappy by As for the line

Tho' world of wanwood leafmeal "

"

lie

telling

"

"

"

wan wood and leafmeal in four have looked up both I see no excuse dictionaries, and I cannot find their meanings. I

for

making

The

a

so vague.

poem

'

'

may have its part in family-constellation this as another personal situation may have in 6-36. Another intrusion of something not easily to be found in the poem is made in 6-38 and seems also to voice some personal reverberation. An

average reader will probably not get anything out of it is much too complicated and symbolical. The melancholy reproachful voice from a wasted life. It is true with exception of the last line but one but not sound. 6-38. this poem

in

The note of many of the 6-4.

conscious superiority rings out clearly protocols as the indignation swells :

This seems to

me

to be a remarkably

bad attempt

to put

into poetry a thought that possibly the author imagined was original. Namely, that Margaret, though she thinks she is grieving for Goldenbrook, is really mourning for herself. The poem appears

me

and rather pointless the few sane extra line seems to have dropped thus making into the middle of the poem as it were by mistake three rhyming lines instead of two as in the rest of the poem.

to

to be disconnected

remarks

in

it

are

trite.

;

An

;

Why

the line

"

is

And

"

you will weep and know why there at all I don't know. Trite thought, somewhat incoherently and badly expressed. yet

The

unfortunate readers bray, snort, and bleat, so overmastering is their contempt. 6-41. This is extraordinarily bad poetry, embodying the trite philosophy that the world is a vale of tears '. Winter, as so often, reminds the speaker of the desolation and sorrows of life. In putting his doggerel together, the poet mixes his verbs and his The grave air of the thing adds to the metaphors hopelessly. *

laughableness of

it.

6-42. Pish-posh

!

PRACTICAL CRITICISM 6-43. Sentamental.

It

is

very

remeniscent

language and form, but Hardy was not in the he plunged in the depths for truth and felt it this poem quite unintelligable and useless. *

of

Hardy

in

least sentamental, to be sad. I find

'

was certainly invited by the Sentamentality poem, and the invitation was not refused. As so often happens the reader's own revulsion at his own devious excesses is counted against the poet. The Poet

has used his technical perfection to express a to which he is subject, in veiled language ; he is ashamed of it and only wishes to be understood by fellow sufferers (or cowards). That is that form of egotism which allows a person to identify himself with the changes of the seasons and to live autumn as well as see it to read Sir Thomas Browne, Ibsen and the pro founder Russian pessimists and imagine that he is depressed. Usually he realises that it is a form of self-satisfaction before he commits suicide for haply he may 6-5.

common human failing

hit

upon Aldous Huxley " If,

O my

Not

:

Lesbia,

I

should commit

fornication, dear, but suicide,"

K.T.L.

Ah Obscurity Browning association must be very widely and firmly established. It is not surprising that here it is accompanied by inability to apprehend form. The

'

'

!

6-6. The communication of this is bad. Thoughts are packed together, half-evolved, and the sentences are consequently ruthlessly clipped. It is a sort of combination of A. S. M. Hutchinson and Browning. It is very difficult to untangle the real points. I don't think it would lose as much as it would gain by a prose

paraphrase. I like the ideas implied, except that of the last couplet, which denies the existence of disinterestedness. The other ideas are worth expressing better than they are here. 6-61. This is either an imitation of Browning, or Browning in one of his worst moments. The thought expressed is a fairly simple one, and there does not appear to be any reason why it should be expressed in so complicated a manner. We guess the

The other lines are ingeneral meaning of the sixth line. harmonious, and rather flat. The poet adopts rather a patronising attitude towards Margaret, in order to explain a quite elementary

POEM

VI

89

truth, i.e. that when we weep for the past for the death of ourselves. He is earnest idea.

He

we

are only

and

evidently likes his

even shows some emotion in the expression of

weeping

it.

How near a reader may come to an understanding of both aspects of a poem, only to be deprived of it by a false expectation of what a poet should do with a given subject appears in 67. 6-7. This is clearly an experiment in sound and in striving The style is jerky, after effect the sense suffers considerably. and suffers from lack of like convulsive sobbing, throughout :

In fact the later part of the piece is so cramped that it takes quite a long time to make out the sense, though the meaning The ingenious arrangement of Is and is there right enough. ws, ms and ss seems rather a misdirection of energy, though clarity.

the result goes far to justify the attempt. This and majestic dirge ; but a very passable whimper.

Finally,

a long

is

no mournful

and very subtle analysis of the

(giving perhaps a third reading to line seven, may have stressed and ') will round the discussion off, as in such a case justice requires.

rhythm

'

for 6-21

Perfect in its sonnet-like di-partite 6-8. Love at first sight. valvular structure ; in its whole and local rhythms ; in its emotion content (the poignancy with which it brings home, from its objective Pathetic Fallacy, the subjective Tragedy ') and in the intellectual articulation that contrasts with its formal economy. A fusion, in the culmination of the last 2 lines, of tragic disclosure with a Katharsis that unites the individual to the universal fate. Thy symmetry on either side the crucial, rhythmically broken, '

*

'

'

'

;

is admirably managed. Less obvious, qua symmetry, and subtly contrasted change in it, as between the groups of six lines on either side the lilt-breaker (1. 7). This, it seems to me, should be read in two portions

central line

is

the

lilt,

:

And

yet you will *

weep

(gap) and '

know why

the emphatic words know why receiving strong but longdrawn stresses, that on krtow being slightly stronger on an uptake and upward inbreathe of pitch, why being on an, equally Nowhere, I think, should the slight, down outbreath of pitch. as as be slow here. read like this the element of If speed-tempo slightly more argumentative disturbance differentiating the last half from the first is more likely to be demasked and the *

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

go

rhythmical rendering invested with a certain distractedness, which and 12 (n especially) disturbs the expressing itself in lines continuity of the rhythmic sighing which characterises all but the central line, and never so exquisitely as in 4th, 5th and 6th lines of the piece. Particularly admirable is the relation of the first and last couplets and their manner of functionally framing the intermediate argument that draws the veil of illusion from ineluctable disillusion. They frame the remorselessly remorseful disclosure between two solicitudes a solicitude presaging disclosure that must dispel the enchanting premise of naivety, and a

n

must make what amend it can for this exquisite by consolatory merging of the individual in the

solicitude that

vandalism

common

,

fate.

I don't mistake this for overt dialogue. It is no and no less than meditated dialogue, an imaginary conversation between young mind and old, between old and youthful

(Of course

more

Between the erect and solemn trees I will go down upon my knees I shall not find this day So meet a place to pray.

^

;

Haply the beauty of this place May work in me an answering grace,

The

Be echoed

The worshipping

in

my

prayer.

trees arise

and run,

With never a swerve, towards the So may my soul's desire Turn to its central fire.

With

And

sun,;

single aim they seek the light, scarce a twig in all their height Breaks out until the head

In glory

How

'

stillness of the air

is

outspread.

strong each pillared trunk

;

the bark

That covers them, how smooth and hark, The sweet and gentle voice With which the leaves rejoice ;

!

a like strength and sweetness fill Desire and thought and steadfast will,

May ^

When

I remember these Fair sacramental trees !

POEM

VII

HERE, as with Poem V, before more

essential ques-

tions can be considered, a complication must first be untangled and set aside. It is not, this time, a misunderstanding of the sense. Strange to say, hardly

a reader, here, either complained of obscurity or even misread the sense, though one particular aberration, concerning the kind of trees described, inveigled some. The relief this lucidity afforded was several times commented upon, and the collocation of this set of four poems (V-VIII) may be thought to have acted rather unfairly as a trap. But this mutual influence between poems that are presented together is as difficult to calculate as to avoid. 7 i. This is certainly better than V and VI for one is able to understand what the author means, and coming after the first two rather appealed to me. It certainly is clearer and more easy to understand. The metre is regular and the whole poem gives a general impression of quiet orderliness which is certainly suited to the theme. The atmosphere of the poem is that of a prayer but it seems to be rather a prosy sort of a prayer. After reading it through a few more times I still do not know why I must refrain from criticising it favourably, but although I think it is much better than the two previous ones, I think there '

'

seems to be something lacking.

the special complication must be dealt Before the poem can have judgment passed upon it, a particular set of double-action prejudices must be got rid of. There is a doctrinal bee to be driven out of our bonnets and it is well to realise that our opinion of this poem need, and should, have nothing to do with, or in any way derive from, or be

But

first

with.

93

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

94

Whether we affected by, the buzzing of this bee. it either in the the traditional right-hand side,

have

our critical bonnets, or in the left-hand, the advanced side, we should not, on any excuse, allow it to influence our decision. Here it is as it buzzes on the right. side, of

7-2.

"

desire and pictures a man who with " seeks the light consciously and It does not help people struggling with incredulity. It

The whole poem

thoughts, and steadfast quietly. does not give

weak point of

will

;

an answer to any how ? or why ? and that The form fits the contents to perfection. it.

is

It was not the business of the poet here to such people, or to answer such questions, so As to the charge may fairly be put aside. can be it to remark, agreed by people who take different views upon the character and worth

of form and contents. Here is the same bee buzzing on the

the

help this final

very both

left.

7-21. I don't like to hear people boast about praying. Alfred to pray is cowardly, and while I don't go as do as I think that it is rude to cram religious ecstasies this, far

de Vigny held that

down

the throat of a sceptical age.

The violence which such prejudices can do to poetry will be remarked. Writing a modest piece of verse is hardly cramming religious ecstasies down our throats. Some of the less distracting influences of the doctrinal bee, as it buzzed in more median positions, will be noticed in the sequel. Relevant opinion on the poem turned largely upon two points its sincerity, whether the prime shaping motive of the poem was what it professes to be and :

;

expression, whether its third verse, for example, does or does not suggest a note of factitiousness that throws doubt upon its authenticity. Both points are subtle and difficult to decide. As to the first inin the crude and sense in which a sincerity, flagrant man is insincere when he writes with his tongue in its

:

POEM his cheek,

to

when he

produce

for himself,

VII

95

consciously and deliberately tries which don't happen

effects in his readers is

a charge which can hardly be brought whole volume single poem.

A

on the strength of a

sometimes, though conclusive justify hard to obtain. Here we could only be concerned with a much less damning though, from a literary point of view, a more important kind of of verse

evidence

may

it

is

The

flaw that insinuates itself when a writer cannot himself distinguish his own genuine promptings from those he would merely like to have, or those which he hopes will make a good poem. Such failures on his part to achieve complete imaginainsincerity.

tive integrity may show themselves in exaggeration, in strained expression, in false simplicity, or perhaps

manner

of his indebtedness to other poetry. confine our attention to this second point, about expression, since it concerns the evidence, if any, as to the fundamental integrity of the shaping The deeper problems of impulse of the poem. in Part discussed are III, Chapter VII. sincerity The continuation of 7-21, clearly a biassed witness, will introduce us to the chief complaint. in the

We may

7-3. Certainly a very

membering sacramental trees

commendable trees ",

"

redesire, this about but hardly necessary when the

do such remarkable things.

Is this mysticism, humbug, or the To give the writer his due, the verse

mere raving of a fanatic ? is smooth and clever, and

the expression of the fifth admirable.

The same

objection is stated in a more judicial manner by 7-31 who is not alone, either, in his other complaint. 7-31. I don't like the poem. is for me quite

and calmness

The

general effect of sweetness overbalanced by two internal

though outstanding blemishes. The first is the predominating The trees don't worship, arise, or run. I know this sounds Johnsonian criticism but I feel it is too blatant and The other is I object to people going down on their insistent.

pathetic fallacies.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

96

knees among some trees. It would be a curious prayer that would be offered under the circumstances. Personally I don't think any words would be said ; and so why kneel ? '

'

of the we shall pathetic fallacy meet with again (cf. 10-6 and 12-4). This writer shows a clear awareness of the real difficulty about

The problem

the question whether the attribution of feelings used as an argument and overworked, a question that clearly cannot be divorced from the end to which it,

is

the

poem is Some of

capricious

directed.

more

the other objections here have a air.

The

intrusive,

accidental,

visual

image, for example, proved troublesome.

When I my mind of

first read the third verse, a vivid picture came a forward breaking away with the ball, from a " " with never a swerve loose scrum and making straight for the I didn't try to think of the verse in a ridiculous light but line.

7-32.

into

Do

me spontaneously. be reckoned as a fault in the poem ?

this idea occurred to

you think

it

could

The

precise image let loose cannot of course be the tendency towards the counted against the poet exaggerated and ludicrous might. ;

7-33. I could not help thinking that the poet who could leave it stands lacks a sense of humour.

the third verse as

Yet some other readers found in this very expression one of the apices of the poem's perfection a fact which will not now surprise us. '

what

'

? The thoughts behind the of the sentiment is as approach perfection expression " The erect and solemn exquisite as the sentiments themselves. " " The worshipping trees arise and run with never a trees " " swerve towards the sun ", or, again, Fair sacramental trees What a use of epithet and what a clear picture sunlit avenue always inspires me, as little else can, with a sense of the Almighty, a feeling of smallness and insignificance. There is something holy about a tree, a feeling of superiority, such as only some fine cathedral or Westminster Abbey can give. I find my thoughts

7*34.

If this be not poetry

this

is

;

.

!

expressed in this.

A

.

.

POEM

VII

97

This is a successful poem the blend of religious nature is forceful and with sincere. The imagery of experience " The worshipping trees arise and run, with such a line as " never a swerve, towards the sun is profound, impassioned and 7-35.

;

effective.

poem indeed. I like the metre, the atmosphere of the whole thing. It gives at once a grand picture of the forest, and the devotional feeling with which the author was imbued by the sight which he depicts. The two first lines It is a fine communication of a fine feeling. of the third verse perfectly express the meaning by their sudden change of rythm. 7-36. I think this is a very fine

and

I like

7-37. I think the

dominant note of

this

poem

is

harmony of

thought and sound and expression and also of the atmosphere and the aspirations. This is seen in the third verse where the rhythm seems to leap forward to keep pace with the "

Arise and run, with never a swerve towards the sun."

It succeeds in giving an impression of dignity and restfulness ; and It pictures not only the thoughts roused by the trees sincerity but also the trees themselves.

The rhythm seems

to

match the march of the thought

perfectly.

But what of the thought that is so perfectly Another writer is not so willing to matched ? and run ', though he does not show arise accept that he has considered very closely what the poet might be attempting to describe. '

7-38. If the fourth verse is not literally true, the metaphor is valueless. If it is true, the trees should not be in a lyric of faith,

but in a Botanic Garden.

A

Menagerie, perhaps, would have been a

still

more

suitable suggestion. Too few of the readers attempted to connect the

difficulty

they

felt

over this line with other points

and manner of the poem. A single fault, by itself, may always be merely clumsiness. To decide whether it is more than this we should have to consider with it such things as so meet a may work in me ', central fire place ', Haply in the diction

*

*

'

.

.

.

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

98

and the words

*

'

and

'

c

sacramental in the last verse. What may be just a blunder, taken by itself, becomes evidence of a tendency when it finds echoes. The direction of this tendency is sketched by several readers who respond to it with more or less hostility. fill

it would have This poem seems to me disappointing Almost everywhere if it were differently expressed. there is a certain smugness which makes it rather repellent. so meet a place to I think this lies in the choice of words the second line of the poem too is displeasing, and pray particularly the last verse with its moral hopes, and the last line of all where the word sacramental is rather offensive.

7-4.

;

more appeal

*

*

;

'

*

He

in a majestic forest, he is upon his knees and hidden away between the erect and solemn trees. presumably But nevertheless he is much more prominent than the trees. The desire expressed in the last verse is laudable. But it

7*41

.

is

is

much

as

good poetry. 7*42.

too self-conscious

and far-fetched

to

make me regard

it

Uplift.

Here

is

one who makes

judgment superabundantly

his reasons for the

same

clear.

7-43. Highly suspicious at first and very cursory reading, after elation, due to the verse form, and uncomfortably check 'd by a Je ne sais quoi of sententious egoism

momentary marvell-ine

combined with suspicion that a rather stark Grand Manner had been both under-studied and over-studied.

2nd reading uncovered it as quite loathsome a sin against the Holy Ghost. Here we have the stoical sublime to order as from the appropriate department of a literary stores out-Harroding Harrods, as they say or Waring its rue with a Gillow.

Yet in

spite of its horrid

*

competence ', this mercenary piece phrases the image of verse 3 (ist 2 lines) so ludicrously as almost to reconcile me, in withering amusement, to its inherent factitiousness.

Verse 4 also exhibits its facture, wears its craft on its sleeve, " is discerned to be forced ", after spite of itself nastily concentration upon it has unveiled (as a general might a War Memorial) the smug sententiousness of its parable. in

POEM In Verse the dose

is

VII

99

5, Parable is served up cold, as at Sunday Supper almost domestically homiletic [' '

= father = mother

strong trunk smooth bark

and

'

'

leaves

the pinafored

little

ones

an exquisite realisation of the simple banale.]

The

clinically-minded critic

what

for

spontaneity

it

an

is

infallible

and impulse by

unspontaneous uplift

spirit

must recognise symptom of

the

this sort of thing

of

anesthetizing

the gas that breeds above the staid

and

of a Democracy whose Literature has

been commercialised.

Here we have the commercialisation of, say, Wordsworth's of rock-bottom by rock-bun simplicities. to Duty, etc. etc. " In this poem "-er piece Wordsworth is stabbed to the heart by a suburban Brutus, in, so to speak, the Senate House of

Ode

Literature. '

*

Assuredly the Contractor for this Peace-work did not find, It was not, however, his that day, so meet a subject to exploit. knees that he went down upon, but his SHANKS !

A

motive

contributory indicated by 7 -44. 7-44.

This poet

him, even though heard us.

is

we

for

so prim that feel that he

we

such are

outbursts

moved

is

to laugh at

would be deeply hurt

if

he

Favourable opinions were not wanting, indeed they made up a majority. The root question, as so often, is whether these responses reflect the poem itself,

or

some

private

set before the reader

poem prompted by the material and by his own reminiscences.

of peace, and deep reverence, which 7-5. An atmosphere more pure and white transports the reader into another world, than this. With what magic is the rhythm used to bring out first the majesty and awe that is within the speaker's soul and then the gradually deepening solace and peace which comes over him, as it were radiated down by the green, gaunt figures of the trees, rising motionless up into the sky, full of worship. Finally after peace, strength and fervent desire enter the soul, so that the poem typifies the progress of emotion, of which the outcome is action in accordance with the natural response to that emotion, whatever it is. Although here, the poem stops

short of action

;

but we

feel that it is there, if

only in the heart.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

Most

of the admirers were

effect of the

poem on

of the

itself.

poem

7-51. I like this

poem because

when I am out-of-doors I

feel inclined to pray.

worshipping God.

more occupied by the by the detail

their feelings than

alone. I

it expresses my feelings at times God seems much nearer, and

like the

In fact the

thought that the trees are us that we can find

poem shows

a religion in nature.

That more than a little of the appeal of the poem came from sources outside it is shown by the frequency with which admiration wanders off to linger upon other thoughts. 7-52. Not a forced simplicity but natural and spontaneous. forest trees are described very beautifully showing that the

The

poet has clearly felt the sense of stability and grandeur with which they impress one. He has well conveyed their stillness and sense of purpose which is contrasted with the feeling that one is rather aimless and unsettled and must pay homage to something

which

lasts longer

than oneself.

(7-56) expressly mentions the of these trees, so that the praise everlastingness h i s unlucky in his use of mutual ', needs f 7'53> careful consideration.

Another admirer '

'

w

'

7-53. Simplicity and unity seem to me the outstanding qualities the bond between of this poem. There is only one central idea man and nature in mutual worship : the poet identifies his own and the natural qualities purpose, prayer, w ith that of the trees :

r

;

of the trees, beauty of form and strength, with traits in his own mind. Each verse is confined to this one idea, nothing is admitted to suggest any other train of thought to the reader ; and this seems to

me

a very considerable achievement.

The

Cathedral image was, however, a dominant

motive. 7-54. The poet has succeeded in universalizing his desire to worship. The erect and solemn trees that rush upward to the sun, suggest the long aisle of a great cathedral, its stillness and " " sweet and gentle voice sanctity, and the leaves rejoicing with in and a fill it with gladness delight way that trebles the evocative power of its solemnity. A very lovely poem. *

'

POEM

VII

101

7*55- Unimportant, as the experience is capable of excitation at will by normal people and probably therefore not very deep-seated : ,

cf.

the frequent reference to

"

forest-aisles

"

in little

books on

Architecture.-

This writer seems to be putting his finger on one of the most interesting problems of Stock Responses. (See Part III, Chapter V.) 7-56. Simplicity of sheer description especially noticeable after are in the form of direct addresses.

two preceding poems which

communication, but meaning not exhausted at first reading by any means. Describes a feeling which is inextricably interwoven with the simplicity of the actual verse form. The solemnity, grandeur, beauty everlastingness of the trees can only be expressed in the simplest language. The value of the trees to the writer does not consist in their offering a meet place to Perfect

pray, though the suggestion of the cathedral-like majesty of the " " The bare ruined choirs haunts the poem. pillared trunks " The spiritual fair sacramental trees ". central thought is in

value and significance of the different aspects of the trees is the main theme, and for this reason the appeal of the poem is direct to those who find the sacrament which means most to them in Nature. The language cannot be criticised because it is one with the poem in perfect expression

The

be and strict with the of the revived, conformity poem what many people have been taught to expect from revival of a set of feelings very ready to

'

nature-poetry ', undoubtedly explain much of its That it can create enthusiasm without popularity. is read being proved by the next extract. It creates the solemn 7-57. This is the gem of the four pieces. recollect peaceful reverent atmosphere of a pine wood for us. how often similar thoughts, occasioned by the reverent calm of the trees, have arisen in us, as we stand awed by their grandeur and

We

majesty.

It is

calm and beautifully euphonius

'

These how smooth be

'

pine-trees (with leaves) must one who, just as arbitrarily, had also a more intentional

set beside the vision of

disliked the poem. shot to aim at it.

He

in sound.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

102

7-58. it

A

sense of

humour

spoils the last line of the 3rd verse

"

reminds one (especially to-day) of chauffage centrale I suppose the trees are Pines or Cypresses.

Finally, not to leave

under-represented,

".

an important minority view

we may end

as

we

began.

7-6. There is something superficial and conventional in the rhythm and thought. It is all rather obvious the reaction being *

Yes of course quite

'.

But

.

.

.

S

V

I

*~r

I

\^S

/

f

I

I

/

Softl^/in the dusly, a womarj ^s^ging/to me/; back down trie vista of ye^rs,"tlfi I see

Takmgjme

A

child sitting

'

under the piano,

in the

boom

of the tingling

strings

And

pressing the small, poised feet of a mother

who

smiles as

she sings.

In spite of myself the insidious mastery of song Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour

Of

childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the

Down

past.

POEM

VIII

FEW readers will have difficulty in guessing where In subject, in the division of opinion fell here. in in in diction, treatment, metre, every isolatable the almost character, poem pressingly invites conof on the score demnation gross sentimentality. And the invitations were accepted. few readers, however, on all sides of the central mob of opponents

A

came

We

to a different decision. at

survey

shall

begin our

the heart of the melee and consider these

others later. on further inspection, should prove not to be maudlin, sentimental twaddle, I have missed the point.

8-1. If this, silly

y

Such

it

certainly

emotion for

seems to me, and

own

loathe

I

it.

// is

a

revelling

nauseating. nothing short of " " " Moreover, it's badly done. I object to ", and tinkling cosy " " " " is used of a piano that elsewhere or is booms appasionato in

just absurd.

The

its

sake, that

If this be poetry, give

is

me

upon me

prose.

IV is mild. I consider sentimental verse rather than poetry but it doesn't strike me as being of the really nauseating type. The emotion described 8-1 1.

general effect

of

it

as far as it went but to be enthusiastic should have to be convinced that the poet's miseries were worth weeping about or casting down his manhood, and I certainly am not convinced. It seems to me to be full " " " of small poised feet appeals to the gallery ", e.g. anyhow a not worth nor is they're certainly hymn in a weeping about, cosy parlour, and to a great number of people a tinkling piano is execrating. On further consideration / think it fails to arrive at the nauseating stage not because of any redeeming sincerity but because it is just too feeble to be anything so definite as nauseating.

might well be sincere

over the

poem

I

8-12. I think this poem imperfectly nauseating. The triviality of the sentiment is equalled only by the utter puerility of the versification as in the third line of the first verse. The poet's 105

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

106

attitude to music

is

disgusting ,

"

and

is

perfectly

summed up

in his

insidious mastery of song ". He regards it phrase about the not as an art, but as an emotional stimulus of a very low kind, and the hymn tunes he recalls were probably those of Messrs Sanky and Moody, and the more sentimental specimens from the Ancient and Modern Hymn Book. Sir H. Hadow once divided the main run of concert goers into two classes. Those who regarded music as a kind of audible confectionery, and those who left their intellects in the cloak room, and went in to have their souls shampooed. This man is not content with a shampoo, he is positively wallowing in a warm bath of soapy sentiment.

These

will

some of the minor

introduce us to

issues. First, as to the sounds emitted by pianos, a point' of fact that proved as disastrous to many readers as the description of the child's position. 8-13. Since I have formed my own opinion on the poem, have experimented on one or two friends and each has started " to grin when we have arrived at the phrase a child sitting under a piano, in the boom of the tinkling strings ". Allowing that it may possibly have been a grand and not an upright piano that the child was sitting under we have still to satisfy ourselves " " that Another rather unfortunate tinkling strings can boom. is that about the feet of the mother poised. It is expression an uncommon word in poetry and naturally, as it doesn't fit in properly, it leads us away from the central idea of the poem. All these points, though small in themselves, do not allow us to get a good view of the poem as a whole. I

Always, in looking over these protocols, it is illuminating to compare the type of comment with the closeness of reading evinced. So particular attention here may be invited to the fact that 8-13 has not noticed any difference between tingling and tinkling ', he has not even observed which word It would be superfluous to expect is used when. him to have considered whether the closeness of the child's ear to the strings might have anything to do with the character of the sounds, or whether, when the children stand up to sing, a tinkling would not '

*

'

'

'

POEM

VIII

107

'

the boom of the tingling strings/ l Such a thing too as a premeditated contrast between ' the great black piano of the present, obviously a grand piano, and the slighter notes of the instrument in the parlour would escape him. 8*1 is at the same distance from the poem, the two pianos are one

then replace

'

'

'

We

shall frequently piano, any piano, for him. notice the influence of this summary, newspaper type of reading in what follows. The geometry of under the piano is almost as distressing as the problem of the sounds to these '

*

*

'

'

readers, such sticklers for themselves to be. 8-14.

the

So many imperfections

poem

as a whole.

'

accuracy

that one

After the

first

child sitting under the piano can move is odd, too, that tingling strings should

do they show

prevented from judging lines, the vision of a nothing but laughter. It is

two

boom.

8-15. I don't see how a child could sit under the piano. sit under the key board but not under the piano.

He

could

acumen he has answered Does he hesitate to West at enter the Kensington, or Underground has he never taken shelter under a tree ? There would appear to be some use after all for technical instruction in the modes of metaphor. We have already met one music-lover rebuking Even when with

his question, he

is

great

not

satisfied. '

'

'

'

the poet for his misuse of that art. But 8.12 is not the only protocolist with severe standards. An

admirer will demonstrate for us ances can distort our reading. 8-2.

This

is

the best.

Its excellence

how such lies

irrelev-

in its securing a

from a sordid incident^ because it happened in Time throws a pleasantly mellow light upon even the past. unpleasant events, and it is this light which the poem expresses.

feeling of ecstacy

A

1 quite simple experiment will settle these points. of course, is the vibration. The vividity of the poet's

remarkable.

Singling'

memory

is

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

io8

"

"

words conforms the use of " " unpoetical incident. of the with the character admirably unpoetical

may add

I

that

P.S. Please do not think, because I consider hymns sordid, that I have an inhibition / merely dislike bad music. I take it otherwise he that the poet didn't really enjoy the experience " " But he wouldn't have said and suchlike words. tinkle :

enjoyed recollecting the experience.

would appear that if the child did enjoy singing hymns the poem must be condemned. Alas, there is good reason in the poem to think that he did. Another writer is more aware of this danger, It

perhaps because his associations are stranger. This poem unfortunately associates itself with jazz, and mammies " thumping the old piano down in Dixie. This association condemns it somewhat prematurely. After careful study, however, it appears to be worthless. Its appeal is entirely sentimental, and the subject is one of the most hackneyed. with the same topic, and the Nearly every popular song deals " " Piano as a disyllabic has an unpleasant thing is not well done. 8-21.

"

coal black

sound.

"

The

heart of

me

"

is

also obnoxious.

From proper attitudes to music (8-12) to correct behaviour to performers is but a step. 8*22. The second verse, which should have been the most poignant, is especially uninspiring. And / don't think the lady singing at the piano would have been very pleased to hear her efforts " described as bursting into clamour ".

This reader, too, is a long way from having noticed what the poem is about. With the remark about popular songs (8-21) we approach the stock-responses difficulty which more than anything else prevented this poem from being read.

One cannot help disliking the evocative use of such phrases old .Sunday evenings ', cosy parlour ', vista of years ', etc., which are nothing but so many calls to one's loose emotion to attach itself to them. 8-3.

as

'

A

'

*

great number could not help themselves " " Vain inglorious Milton 8-31. This poem suggests that some had unhappily been moved by that mawkish sentiment with which :

POEM we lie

VIII

109

so often think of childhood, to commit to verse These thoughts he too shallow for words.

phrases culled from The

News

thoughts that

expresses in of the World or others his ethereal

links with literature.

That the poet might have phrases, beyond that which

a further use for such his readers made of them, they failed to notice in their uneasy haste haste which other things in the to withdraw. protocols (notably in connection with Poem IV)

A

make me think

suspicious.

In natural alliance with this nervousness are sundry prior demands, preconceptions as to what is proper

and improper

and some personal twists and

in poetry,

accidents.

The author has attached an emotion 8-32. Sentamental. about his mother to music which should arouse very different emotions. Besides, who would be a wretched, dependent child again when he can be a free person ? A particular tune might be associated with a particular person, especially if it was a lover, but that is different. I don't find this poem at all helpful nor does it express any feelings I have ever had or want to have.

That

'

'

family-constellation

again

!

The man 8-33. A good example of feeling without artistry. evidently means everything he says, but he doesn't know how to say it, and he hasn't any idea that hymns in the cosy parlour are somehow wrong in poetry. The picture of the time the poet is grieving for is vivid and even awakes an answering sorrow, but the continual running over of the the expression is all wrong " Pears' lines is irritating, and the middle verse is very like a " Annual sort of print. ;

At this point the metrical question here a really useful test as to whether the reader has understood what the poet is, at least, attempting to do comes to the front. For, in fact, unless the reader does master the movement of the poem he will to contrive its purport is. what general prehardly discover conception that lines of verse should not run over

A

would be a serious obstacle

in

this

endeavour.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM the last writer need not be accused of this, one who makes his views on metre quite clear.

Though here

is

A

very vivid piece of prosy poetry if one may call such 8*4. a string of pictures poetry. I find some charm in the thoughts but none in the verse or very little. Contrast the last line of each verse with Swinburne's the world

"

Thou has conquered, oh pale Galilean ; ". The same metre, but what

grows grey at they breath

a difference of sentiment.

I can't really like this.

That he should misquote his Swinburne altering slow and weary rhythm (read has grown grey from ') is just what we should expect *

its

:

!

All the difficulties of the stock emotional response (see Part III, Chapter VI) are paralleled in the stock It is as easy to import a conreading of metre. ventional movement into the rhythm as to drag in

And it is just as easy to be conventional feelings. revolted by our own importations in either case. Indeed, those who intrude the one commonly add the other. After about 3 readings decide / don't like

8-41.

makes

me

angry ...

this.

It

myself responding to it and don't I think / feel hypnotised like responding. by the long boomy But the noise when I stop myself being hypnotised seems lines. disproportionate to what's being said. A lot of emotion is being The writer seems to love feeling stirred up about nothing much. I feel

sobby about his pure spotless childhood and to enjoy thinking of himself as a world-worn wretch. There's too much about " insi" " " and appassionato for me. The whole comparison diousness between childhood's Sunday evenings and passionate manhood

cheap by which I mean (i) It is easy (2) both to childhood and manhood. I expect I am too this criticism to have value. etc. is

;

It is

unfair

irritated for

Re-read. If not too lazy would throw the book into the corner.

Here

*

the long *

'

boomy

lines

join hands neatly

with the poet's pure spotless childhood \ Both the movement and the material are introduced by the reader they are not given in the poem, and they reflect only the reader's own private attempt at an ;

POEM

in

VIII

constructed on the basis of a remote of this poem's apparent awareness superficial and appassionato ', the Insidious subject-matter. most evident hints that the poet is not doing, or attempting to do, what the reader is expecting, are The poet as a dismissed without consideration. his and wretch world-worn passionate manhood

analogous

poem

and

'

'

'

'

'

'

of which there the poem, are

no

'

rather the reverse, in the reader's attention occupying

is

hint,

instead.

These importations are so frequent and have so influence upon what professes to be critical judgment that they merit close attention. It would seem that a dense medium of the reader's own poetic much embryo, much abortion product surrounds him and intervenes very often to prevent communication with the poet. How intricate may be the co-operation between what may be called detective or imaginative intelligence and susceptibility to the suggestions of

much

'

'

'

'

*

speech-rhythms print),

is

'

9

'

(partially concealed, of course, in 8-42.

in

again shown

A

very dangerous metre to use unless the poetic thought it is so easy to go thudding away when reading it without bothering to see if there is anything beautiful contained " in it. Here I think it fails because although Sunday evenings " " " are all right in themselves and at home tinkling pianos they don't go in that metre. They become hackneyed in the extreme. I don't appreciate the pictorial value any more than " boom of tingling the thought, diction or metre. I don't like the " I and like a isn't don't it black piano ", right great strings appassionato ". The poem starts off well and raises one's hopes only to be dashed beneath the piano. 8*42.

is

really fine as

The writer feels the danger of misreading the verse form, but through not coming close enough, imaginathe boom of the tingling strings and tively, to out the in not contrasts the working though poem, he is victimised by his imparted rhythm in the end. Since the poem does not turn out to be what he *

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM expected, he does not take the trouble to find out

what

it is.

The same

inability to apprehend the verse-form frustrates 8-43. He describes with fair success some

of the peculiarities of the movement, but an application of external canons (usually fatal) to cast down ', and failure to interpret the salient clue in the movement of the insidious mastery prevent him from profiting by his observation. Perhaps if someone had read the poem to him, giving decent prominence to the natural speech rhythm, he would have been converted. *

'

'

The

the picture given in subject matter is appealing verse is vivid and original. The metre, however, detracts considerably from the poem, and so takes from the charm of the thought that the reader scarcely gives the verses a second con8-43.

the

;

first

sideration.

In the first verse it is line 3 that spoils the verse which is both harmonious and charming if considered without this line. But " " upsets the whole balance of the metre, sitting under the piano and gives a feeling of banality to what is otherwise an appealing and original verse. The metre of the second verse offends less, " " makes it hard to read and throws the the insidious mastery but rhythm out. In the third verse the pauses in the lines give an

The curtailing of the number of beats in not compensated for, while the splitting-up of over two lines is inexcusable.

impression of jerkiness.

the 2nd line " " cast

down

is

*

This harping on the word charm ', however, is a discouraging indication, and the final remark implies preconceptions about metre which are not lightly overcome. It is significant with this poem, that the further away any reading seems to be from the actual imaginative realisation of its content the is

dismissed.

more confidently

Another musical expert who has '

prepossessions in favour of metrical regularity strengthen the evidence on this point.

it

also

'

will

8-44. The sentimentality of this poem is perhaps the best thing that can be said for it. For in all other respects its values

POEM

VIII

113

more negative. The diction is so forced as to appear short of ludicrous, and the metre rivals a grasshopper in nothing are even

elasticity. *

'

In spite of myself the insidious mastery of song would to me to make a fair bid for one of the worst lines of poetry ever written. The poet is trying to get effects the whole time. This is so painfully obvious.' To say something out of the common. Well, my dear sir, if boom of the tingling strings is the best you can do, / would rather have the actual thing in

seem

*

real

much

life,

better expressed by

'

any second-rate saxophonist.

It is a pity that he did not attempt to discover what effects the poet was trying to get. While the music in the poem is under examination

yet another queer interpretation deserves admission. but the man who 8-45. Obviously a poem of homesickness * it went to the concert homesick the great black feeling as he calls didn't it, probably piano appassionato really awaken wrote

'

the feelings of homesickness in his mind. It merely gave him an excuse for, and a way of putting his feelings down. But with all this the poem doesn't express a particularly good state of mind. Written in the heat of emotion it is simply The style of the poem, too, seems rather sloshy sentiment. exaggerated.

A

reader who can think the woman is singing on a concert platform has not softly, in the dusk to managed approach very closely to the poem, and his strictures are less binding for that reason. It was inevitable that most of those who approved the poem should comment upon the perils it escaped. '

'

8-5. I have not been able to find a moment for this when I have not been too tired to trust my judgment. It runs an appalling risk of sentimentality and yet seems to have escaped all offensiveness a considerable achievement. It is poignant, but :

not, I think, of very great value.

The accent is familiar. D.H.L.

?

One is made keenly aware of the strange relationship 8-51. of past and present experience one feels the emotion the poet experienced through his identity with and separation from his past self. He has succeeded in conveying the acute emotion he experienced and he has succeeded in dealing with a situation fraught with the danger of sentimentality, without sentimentalism . The ideas of Motherhood the past Sunday evenings etc. all .

H

.

.

u4

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

lend themselves to insincere emotion.

seems to me,

In the second verse,

it

and dispels that danger. He between his man's outlook and

the poet recognises

recognises there the difference " his childish outlook and we share his experience of being betrayed " " I'm not sure if this back by "the insidious mastery I am convinced it is explains how sentimentality is missed. missed by the fact that the poem moves me more as I read it

more

An

often.

expression

The

insincere emotion betrays itself it closely I think.

by slovenly

one watches

if

remark is more a pious hope than a sound Carelessness may accompany the sincerest opinion. kind of carelessness will be the feelings. Perhaps different, but any dogmatism would be hazardous. Deft craftsmanship can easily elude this too convenient test. last

The

who

*

old Sunday evenings at introduces home and hymns in the cosy parlour ' must be very sure of the sincerity of his feelings and his capability to express them Here the writer has if he is to avoid cheap sentimentality. avoided them and has succeeded in expressing the effect of music which calls back memories. The power of music is even though this is being very bold to carry off the weeping. sufficient Then there is the usual setting of the sentimental, dusk and soft one hesitates I think it is the great singing, a little child black piano that decides the day. 8*52. '

writer

*

*

;

;

'

This writer seems less close in his reading than the last, but he illustrates the struggle the poem nearly always entailed, a struggle that did not always end in defeat.

A very few escaped this conflict and it thus becomes difficult to evaluate their

acceptance.

8-6. Sentimental but if sentiment must be fearfully so expressed then here it is in its right setting and well done really.

Honestly I wish more people would throw off their sophisticaand cynicism and be honest with themselves like the fellow

tion

in this

It

poem

!

should be recognised that

several senses (see Part III,

*

sentimental

'

has

Chapter VI) and does

POEM

VIII

115

not always impute low value. How near this reader to the actual poem must, however, always remain undetermined. On the strength of honest with themselves like the fellow in this poem ', which seems to correspond to the analyses of 8-51, I incline to accord him the full benefit of the doubt. More particulars of the acceptance struggle are

came

'

given in 8-61. 8-61. Although I feel almost ashamed to say so this poem makes the biggest appeal (up to the moment of writing) of all four The poem seems to be so eminently sentimental selections. (I see no real reason why I, a grown man, should allow myself the luxury of tears) and yet the happiness of childhood does return at times in this way under the influence of music. There seems to be a weakness in the metre in line 3 stanza i. I can't make it scan. And in stanza 2, the tinkling piano our guide guide I don't think a good word. Too obviously used for the sake of the rime. '

c

'

*

*

This reader would have found a justification for guide if he had been able to recall, or imagine, the '

hymn-singing described the children's uncertain voices rather tentatively following the tinkling notes of the piano. In line 3, stanza i, a pause after piano for the realisation of the quivering thunder of the base notes would have met his difficulty with scansion. The accusations (cf. 8-31, 8-21, 8-33) of naivety or of exploiting conventional responses, together with the objections on the ground of inaccuracy, are well *

'

'

'

countered in 8-7.

The 8-7. It is difficult to pass judgment on this poem. communication is excellent, and the experience one familiar to most people. I suppose this emotional reversion to an ordinary incident of one's childhood, and the indulgence in grief for it The striking simply because^it is past, is really sentimental. American ? or Lawrence H. that the ?] knows i>, poet [D. thing quite well that it is so, and does not try to make capital out of the sentiment. The simplicity and accuracy with which he records and the justness of the expression not pitching the his feelings somehow alters the focus what might have at all thing up ,

;

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

n6

been merely sentimental becomes valuable the strength of the underlying feeling becoming apparent through the sincerity and truthfulness of the exprsesion.

Another useful note of analysis 8-71. Associations partially.

The

first

make

difficult to

it

verse

is

is

added in 871.

judge this poem im-

sentimental, but pleasing

curious that the poet too feels sentimentality coming upon 1

;

it

is

him

The last In spite of myself and he gives way to it entirely. lines of the second verse particularly show sentimentality

two

a shallow and languishing feeling but yet they convey adequately thus we can scarcely the qualities of the evenings they describe ;

accuse the poet of sentimentality is extremely simple, and whether it is itself weak or well describes a certain psychological state of mind. The poet can convey pictures. The poem I think succeeds in doing what it sets out to do.

The poem

no,

it

Whether the poem

simple may well be before us. nearer these readers come to the poem is

doubted on the evidence

How much than those

so

now

who most abused

it

may be measured by

the collocation of 872, where the writer is rather describing some other poem floating in his private limbo than attempting to discover what the poet is

doing. 8-72. This poem is false. One worships the past in the present, for what it is, not for what it was. To ask for the renewal of the The poet is asking for the past is to ask for its destruction. destruction of what is most dear to him.

Finally 8-8

made upon

may add an the

observation not elsewhere peculiar quality of the emotion

present. 8-8. I can't decide

about this

which post- Victorians have

poem

it

portrays something,

sympathy with, and yet there is a sense of infinite and the man's weeping is the longing, unrestrained soul satisfying crying which we only experience in little

dreams.

The rhythm emphasises sophisticated

the result

is

the reflective strain puzzling.

the words are

POEM

VIII

117

This brings us to the end of the first two groups of poems. The writers who supply the comments on the following five poems belonged to an audience of the same type gathered two years later. Only a few of the original members remained. The change greatly increases the representative character of these extracts.

A

Health, a ringing health, unto the king hearts to-day But what proud song Should follow on the thought, nor do him wrong ? Unless the sea were harp, each mirthful string Woven of the lightning of the nights of Spring, And Dawn the lonely listener, glad and grave With colours of the sea-shell and the wave In brightening eye and cheek, there is none to sing

Of all our

!

!

Drink to him, as men upon an Alpine peak Brim one immortal cup of crimson wine, And into it drop one pure cold crust of snow,

Then hold And drink

it

up, too rapturously to speak

to the mountains, line on glittering line, Surging away into the sunset-glow.

POEM IX I AM privileged to print the following Note from the author of Poem IX, written after he had seen some of the protocols.

" The original version was written for a special occasion, which left

the writer little time for revision. reads as follows

poem

The

final edition

of the

:

FOR THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY OF GEORGE

MEREDITH A

HEALTH, a ringing health, to the uncrowned king all our hearts to-day But what brave song Should follow on the thought, nor do him wrong ? Unless, with bird-like body and dusky wing Sandra return to his deep woods in Spring, And nightingale and sky-lark, all night long, Pour their new- wedded notes in a golden throng Through her dark throat till dawn, there is none to sing

Of

!

!

Pledge him, as men upon an Alpine peak Brim one immortal cup of crimson wine, And into it drop one pure cold crust of snow, Then hold it up, too rapturously to speak And drink to the mountains, line on glittering line,

Surging away into the sunset-glow.

At the same time the readers of the first version showed an incapacity to take in the fact that it was not the king, but the king of the hearers' hearts on that occasion, of which the first sentence spoke. The absence of the title of the poem deprived readers of a clue but by no means of every clue if they had The suggestion that the * mirthful exercised a little thought. of in the question were to be woven of spring harp strings of an allusion to the peculiar, flickering, course, was, lightning and dazzling character of Meredith's wit, and had no relation whatever to the cheap ideas of the readers themselves. Unimpute their fortunately, in reading poetry too many persons own personalities to what they read, and often attack their own musical-comedy faults in those whom they fail to underThis is a problem for psycho-analysis, not criticism. I stand. Sandra ', in the new version it is unnecessary to say that hope does not mean a wife of Botticelli/* ;

'

*

'

*

119

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

120

Two Goose,

minor chases, each, unluckily,

after a

The

complicate this set of protocols.

Wild first

introduces us to the Royalist Imbroglio. 9- 1.

and

Prejudice against

first line.

patriotic verse tends to

Nobody worships

the King,

be insincere.

The only other objection this writer raised was to the awkwardness of unto '. The rest was praise. '

This poem seems to be written in the grand manner. seems theatrical, full of sound but little else. One has ceased to think of Kings in that particular way, and in consequence 9- 1 1.

To me

the

it

poem

is

without

vitality.

The poem

suggests an attempt of one of the late Cavalier with a the King poets led to think this by association of drunk his not health by defeated, though dejected, supringing porters. Impossible to fully criticise this since no modern reader writer probably in his room can have same feeling as the writer half tipsy, vastly elated by the fact that he was a care-free roisterer and not a Puritan. 9-1

1 1.

'

'

'

'

The assumptions behind

these views upon the and must receive a deserve poems later. thorough scrutiny An extraordinary number of readers were betrayed by this first line, and made no attempt to read more

obsolescence of

closely. 9-12. The similes are unsuitable. Why, when one drinks to the King, presumably in a crowded room, should one think of For these reasons I Alpine peaks and crusts of cold snow ?

think the

poem

bad.

Speculation, however, awoke in some, and the Wild Goose flies high. do not know who the King Does the poet mean God, or an earthly Monarch ? '

9-13. After reading the sonnet I is.

9-131. This

the

'

presence of natural self complacency. Perhaps the writer has another King for his mind ; but that he should be content to find him in situations which have a smack of the romantic musical comedy harps and glittering mountains perhaps more suggestive of the Gothic revival shows a man objects

is

rapturous

ecstacy

in

one of the most obvious forms of

'

'

POEM IX

121

who maybe through unconscious protest, probably through mere natural blindness ignores all that is interesting and vital in The expression has all the vigour of life in his worship of God. the Psalms and is an adequate translation of the cold, hard, primary-coloured emotion.

The more will,

popular Stock Response, as such things

had diverse

effects.

9-14. As a staunch royalist and one who loves to sing with all " Here's a Health unto his might and main that grand old song

His Majesty this

little

"

I

poem.

had thought after reading the But what a disappointment

first line

One

!

to enjoy

could, I

suppose, imagine some sense into the imagery of lines 4-8 inclusive, but the result would be a vain thing, at any rate so far as the main idea of the poem is concerned.

After the Royalist the Republican 9-15.

:

An

I could not altogether unpleasant effect on me Observer '. I was not reading a poem in the associates itself in my mind with Tyranny, an impossible :

*

persuade myself " "

King

subject for poetry.

Alas, poor Shelley

One

!

confusion not unnaturally breeds another.

9-16. It starts with a health to the King, which

is

drunk

later

on an Alpine peak.

Many who did not go so far as this expressed a concern which may be regarded as more properly a criticism of the

poem

:

9-17. Does the subject, the 'King' justify the rather highflown language ? I want to know more about this personage before I accept the poem.

Hitherto

our

commentators

have

been

rather

querulous. my leg was being pulled, the real Hero-worshipper.

Here, unless

is

9-18. Main effect is a feeling of the size, strength and grandeur of the king. A king comparable with a line of mountains, comparable with what that line of mountains represents to mountaineers, a king fit to be addressed by the never ending song of the sea, sung to by a glad and grave dawn with the colours *

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM of the sea-shell in her cheek. This king to be pledged in a cup, more precious than gold almost ranks with the gods. Yet he is essentially cold and reserved, more remarked for his capability than for his humanity more respected than loved, more like a gaunt and "glittering" mountain than a grass covered hill basking in the sunshine. I like this poem and the effect of such lines as " Brim one immortal cup of crimson wine And into it drop one pure cold crust of snow " ,

is

too marvellous to be described.

A

c

example, towards the end, of reading into the poem '. Those who form an adverse view of the fine

merits of the

poem will perhaps recognise in the summing up of the very points they

praise a faithful

would themselves charge against

it

as defects.

noteworthy that so many readers (I have by no means emptied the basket) should have been misled by so simple a trope as the king of all our It is

'

hearts ', and hardly less remarkable that they should have considered the identity of the actual person celebrated in the sonnet so germane to the question of its merit. This, however, is a matter to be discussed later. (See Appendix A, p. 355.) After the Royalist Imbroglio the Drink Problem !

9-2. This poem could well have devotee of Mr Rudyard Kipling. drink wine on Alpine peaks, even No one will be sufficiently cups. their wine.

I regret that, as

a

have to declare that assertions.

is

incorrect to say men it be in immortal

though

foolish to

Member

mix snow with

of the Alpine Club,

I

this critic is too positive in his

The proper

into such matters,

been written by a drunk It

inference, if one must go to be either that this

would seem

peak has an uncommonly easy and quick descent, or that the climbers, in view of the date, were the Signori Gugliermina. 9-21. The picture

of the mountaineers rapturously holding up frozen wine seems silly to me, and I react with annoyance. Why should they drop snow into their wine? They would be quite cold enough already, upon an Alpine peak.

POEM IX

123

9'2i. To what are these bibulous gentlemen drinking ? to a king ; then to the mountains, line on glittering line. all it is irritating to read a poet who doesn't even know

Firstly

Above

how

to

drink red wine a pure cold crust of snow would never be put into a red wine by a connoisseur. ;

The writers evidently felt some difficulty in resisting the temptation to ribaldry this topic extends. But here are two entirely different objections. Words such

'

*

*

rapturously ', seem out the line and put the drink in the far distant future. One further point were the cup brimmed, the pure cold crust of snow would certainly have slopped over some of the crimson wine ', and that were a pity and a mess ! 9-22.

to

as

immortal

',

pure

',

fill

'

'

'

For the sake of completeness it is worth adding " one protocol records an intimate personal

that

association affecting a teetotaller/'

my

opinion of the

I

poem

am

Passing now to matters more closely connected with critical opinion on the poem, two complete protocols may be set beside one another to show once again how often what most pains one reader is exactly

what most pleases another. This poem is a fake. What passes for enthusiasm in the few lines is in reality only a spurious form of heartiness '.

9-3.

'

first

The elaborate sea-harp

simile

is

meaningless

:

the music, so catchily

The rhythm not of a sublimated barrel-organ. organic but superimposed from without. But it is a clever fake. The writer has evidently had much practice in versification, he has a considerable degree of skill in putting words together to form a pretty pattern. He achieves a sense of completeness and finality in the sextet by alliteration which is almost enviably slick \ If he had anything to say it is likely that he would communicate it effectively unfortunately he has next to nothing. His poem is a form of verbal flatulence and belongs to a class of verse which appears with distressing regularity in the pages of such periodicals tuneful,

that

'

:

as

The Spectator and The London Mercury.

it is so exuberant and joyful I read it three 9*31. / like this or four times at the first attack, not because I could not make much out of it, as was the case with the third poem (No. XI), but because the poet's mood was so infectious, and made me feel

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

124

I think as hearty as he must have felt when he wrote the poem. Dawn the lonely he has achieved a stroke of genius with '

'

and he succeeds by such words as mirthful listener

'

is

appropriate

to-

in impressing us

and

with his

own mood

*

rapturously '. The metre, too, the mood, the verse goes with a swing, one ',

might say.

Here matter, mood, and movement

alike

come

in

for correspondent praise and dispraise, strong evidence that the poet has done what he wished and well suited his means to his end. Only those who objected to the 9*32.

aim quarrelled with the means. The whole poem

false joie-de-vivre,

seeks to slap

and lamentably

you on

the back with

a

fails.

Very many writers acclaimed this exuberance. It was certainly one of the two chief sources of the great popularity of the poem. It is admirably described in the following extract where the other source of popularity is also indicated. 9-4. A poem of extreme enthusiasm and consequently filled with a sort of excess of expression which seems to say Take me or leave me '. Personally I revelled in it. In the first half the poet gives his ideas with the help of alliteration and some telling lightning of the nights of Spring '. In phrases, especially his the second he paints a truly grand picture. Colours, Alpine peaks, crimson wine, cold crust of snow, and mountains in the background. An admirable poetical canvas. *

*

Colours and pictures, the appeal to the mind's eye, to the visualiser, is a source of attraction that able advertising agents have known and used for

many

years.

poem because of its colour and imagery. Lines brim one immortal cup of crimson wine always appeal sense of colour. That is why I like Keats.

9-41. I like the

such as to

my

'

'

The poet has the right idea and picks his words caredue regard to their effect so it is he gives us a mindwith fully picture of the coldness of the snow and the crystal clearness of the crimson wine which is naturally immortal. 9-42.

;

POEM IX

125

A question that had troubled many, though I have not represented it, is thus answered. Why imThis ? In what sense so. mortal ? Naturally writer does not venture so far, nor do any of the other writers who admire this much-praised line expatiate upon the epithet. The hostile party, however, not '

'

only quarrelled much about immortal but quibbled over crimson too. There are clearly several senses in which we may have a sense of colour \ Nor was this the only colour-point objected to. '

l

'

9-421. to

There are jarring

fallacies in the detail

:

Dawn

is

made

have pink eyes and green cheeks.

But the majority

w ere r

content with a less metic-

ulous examination. 9*43. I liked the colour.

modern romantic

freshness, the

warmth and

9-44. What I like in this sonnet are the two vividly -drawn pictures it contains, the first reminding me in its delicate touches of a Botticelli picture, and the second glowing with warm colour

and human triumph. This is good. The lines go with a swing. The phrasing musical and the imagery quite original and striking. 9*45. is

Others were concerned rather with

its

fittingness

:

9-46. I was at first partly carried away by the succession of exciting images sonorously and effectively expressed, but was unable to emotions. The sight respond fully to the poet's demand on of mountains stirs me deeply, but I am quite sure they do not

my

occasion feelings at all comparable with

I might have for a fellow man.

The

any

feelings of enthusiasm

difference

is

one of kind,

not degree.

Since visual images were concerned it is not surprising that different imaginers saw different visions. We have already read two descriptions (9-4, 9-44).

Here 9*47. poster.

are others.

The second

stanza suggests a

Swiss Tourist Agency

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

126

9-48. As to the Alpine simile, when one has shaken off the strong emotion which naturally arises when such associations are aroused, one is disgusted by the banality of diction and general railway advertisement character of the poet's manner.

The

enlivening effect of the sonnet

is

much

re-

marked upon. The mood of exhilaration

so that without is contagious for I share this the reason the feeling poet's appreciating exhilaration so that to this extent this poem fulfils the demand I make of poetry. To bring me in contact with a spirit who has pondered to such effect that his work will open a window of my own spirit to the larger purer universe of his own. 9-5.

9-51.

The

'

*

Alpine peak

and the

*

pure cold crust of snow

the sense of exhilaration

convey exactly

and

>

produced by

'

the intense

enthusiastic idealism of the poet.

The 9*52. It exhilarates me by its series of vivid images. I think of in connection with these images is chaste '. '

adjective

A comment which, contrast,

perhaps through association by reminds one of the American publisher who '

'

'

complained of the word chaste as always deplorably suggestive '. But certainly a too conscious quest for a larger, purer universe of intense and enthusiastic idealism does open ground for suspicion.

Keats

who

occurred in an earlier protocol (9*41)

reappears several times

:

The

simile forming the last six lines of the sonnet is very can be held on a par with that similar one by Keats at " the end of his sonnet on Chapman's Homer ". 9-6. fine ;

it

The

9'6i.

last verse is far clearer action,

and

there

metre which seems suggestive of mountains for mind at once stout Cortes and a peak, in Darien.

in the

is it

something brings to

A much simpler explanation seems sufficient. The *

'

peak by itself would be quite enough. Images other than visual played their part. mind's ear was invited to attend.

word

*

9*7.

Surging away into the sunset glow

after the roar of the song of the sea

and

'.

The

A suitable diminuendo

the lightning.

POEM IX

127

Readers with musical interests were more 9-71. The only concrete simile in the octet the sea to a harp surely a little extravagant,

The imagery is bad. The sea never had the sound of a harp.

9-72.

but

it

is

critical

:

the likening of

may sound

like

an organ

9-73. One wonders if the poet has correctly grasped the idea conveyed in the description of the harp, 11

Woven

A

9-74.

each mirthful string of the lightning of the nights of Spring ".

far-fetched

metaphor

in

which the sea

is

pictured as a

harp and each string besides being mirthful, is made up of the For some unknown reason Dawn-. lightning of Spring nights. listens to the music of this incredible instrument. ,

9-75. The first definite clue to the poem's true character is theSince strings are spun or twisted, word woven (5th line). woven must have been brought in for its higher potency in releasing vague emotion. From that point onwards the poet was obviousbg overwhelmed with recollected phrases and pilfered epithets. '

*

J

'

The

facts

implied in this metaphor were also

challenged on another ground 9-76. Common sense suggests that

:

if the Dawn were present the lightning of spring nights would be inevitably absent.

9-77. Since Dawn does not come into being till the end of night, the strings and the listener could not exist contempor-

aneously.

the spirit of Dr Johnson has happily vanished from literary criticism. not altogether Failure to recognise the sonnet form appeared again It is clear that

:

9- 8.

It

seems to be part of a drama

9-81. This is essentially a piece of dramatic poetry, one which can only be properly appreciated when heard declaimed in the course of a play.

Against these plaint,

may be

set a

which incidentally well

more common comsome of the

illustrates

dangers of technical presuppositions.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

128

a cold fact recognised 9-82. I am confronted by a sonnet before I had read a word. I have very definite ideas of what should be the general content of a sonnet, and of all of them, a toast is outside the list. A ringing health needs a quicker, livelier, rhythm, a faster stream of rhymes than a sonnet affords.

It will have been noticed that, for some of his readers at least (9-31, 9*45) the poet quite overcame these objections. Also :

9-83. Subject chosen both are dignified.

is

very suitable to the sonnet form

;

The been

favourable verdict of the majority has hitherto insufficiently represented.

The 9-9. I like it best, because it is a song from within me. words are simple, consequently the sense immediately touches my mind. Lightning of the nights of spring ', one pure cold *

*

my own. The imperative mood moves me directly. The long swinging evenness of the thought running unbroken through many lines makes it one emotion, not a series of metaphorical attacks. The poet has crammed in the most moving manifestations of nature, personified them, toasted the most austere of them in a rapture, and moved me beyond crust of

snow

'

recall ecstasies of

explaining.

But surely

this writer has himself, in the italicised

passages, provided a quite satisfactory explanation.

me

because of sincerity and nobility of of the feeling justifies the hyperbole which might so easily sound hollow, but here seems the just expression of an emotion inexpressible in words. The appeal to the imagination is as strong as that to the heart, for nature is 9-91.

Appeals to

sentiment.

The warmth

alluded to in its loveliest and grandest aspects. The poem must have a lasting value because of the freedom it allows the aesthetic the lightning of the nights of sense in the images called up spring ', the colours of sea-shell and wave. '

These, with the counterblasts in 9-22 and 9-93 upon which opinion whether the turned earned a right to poem chiefly it evoked. associations In other words, the exploit a problem of Stock Responses. will serve to indicate the point

POEM IX

129

9-92. The poem contains all the customary apparatus of poetical hack-work, the conventional similes and personifications Dawn, the sea, sunset, the Alpine peaks all in fourteen lines !

9-93. The main experience has nothing to do with the first line. Health drinking may have given rise to the conviction that a song ought to be written even a sonnet, though that is a most

unlikely form in which to express a mood of anniversary high but then that isn*t the experience expressed. What is ? Almost certainly, an adolescent reaction to the vocabulary of the spirits

romantics.

Only one writer made allusion to what may be thought a marked influence in the sonnet. 9-94.

The

style is

Swinburne cum water.

The comments on this poem may show, more clearly than with any of the others, how much at a loss many readers are if required to interpret and judge Several important questions as figurative language. to the proper approach to hyperbole, and the under-

standing of similes which are emotive rather than These matters are elucidatory, arise for attention. discussed in Part III, Chapter II.

Climb, cloud, and pencil all the blue With your miraculous stockade ; The earth will have her joy of you And limn your beauty till it fade. Puzzle the cattle at the grass

And paint your pleasure on their flanks Shoot, as the ripe cornfield you pass, A shudder down those golden ranks.

On

wall and

And

sidle

window slant your hand up the garden stair ;

Cherish each flower in all the land With soft encroachments of cool

Lay your long

And

fingers

air.

on the sea

shake your shadow at the sun,

Darkly reminding him that he Relieve you when your work

is

done.

Rally your wizardries, and wake A noonday panic cold and rude, Till 'neath the ferns the drowsy snake Is conscious of his solitude.

Then

as your sorcery declines Elaborate your pomp the more, So shall your gorgeous new designs Crown your beneficence before.

Your silver hinges now revolve, Your snowy citadels unfold, And, lest their pride too soon dissolve, Buckle them with a belt of gold.

O sprawling domes, O tottering towers, O frail steel tissues of the sun What Have ye numbered all your hours And is your empire all fordone ? !

;

POEM X MNEMONIC and of imagery, and a

other irrelevances, some problems swarm of technical presuppositions,

mainly concerning movement and diction, mark this set of protocols too, and the Stock Response is not absent. But some deeper and more disturbing problems, concerning not so much the nature of the poem as the kind of value it may possess, will be noticed to lurk frequently below the surface and to come out occasionally into explicit words. First, let us survey the more accessible particularities

of opinion.

The charm of this is twofold first, one can bask in the sunshine of a perfect September day (such as I have not experienced in England in 1927), and realise that America is a good country also, England having no "golden ranks" of corn ; secondly, the rhythm, rhyme and alliteration make one want to read it aloud a second time and then try to sing it. Did Bryant lo-i.

:

warm

write

it ?

I

don't know.

The mnemonic

less justification and in also a totally different direction, governs 10-11. The alleged ground in the tone of the poem is not easy to

make

pull,

with

out.

io- 1 1.

The

authoress

(I

fear

it

is

by law from ever approaching any

so) should be prohibited child whose sense and

imagination are not certified normal and healthy. The poem the type which invades school anthologies though it is a disreputable offspring of Shelley (misunderstood) and a woolly sentimental " " Nature mind. It endeavours to bring the young mind close to skittish is such and a It tone not the patronage. of by adopting Goths nor the classics that desolate Europe.

is

With

10-2

we

pass to the image problem. 131

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

132

10-2. / like this because clouds have a fascination for me. Also the passage of the cloud's shadow over the fields, cottages, gardens and the sea is cleverly told. If the test of the mental picture arising in reader's mind from poet's words is a test at all, " Limn " in the poem is good. Even the necessity of looking up from did not detract in it. The words line 4 pleasure reading one would get tired are not so happy as the picture formed of having the picture raised in the mind by the repetition of the words. Musically they do not satisfy. Yes, the more I read it :

the less I

like^it.

On the

we shall hear we have learned to

metrical question

The imagery

issue, as

other views. expect, pro-

voked the most extreme divergencies of opinion. // makes heaps of pictures things one has seen before. a certain flight of stone steps for

This is a very pleasant poem. mind some new, some recalling

10-21. in the

Stanza 3 connected itself with at once. Stanza 5 is the best of all. One feels the the hot sun suddenly goes in ', perfectly.

me

chill,

when

'

This poem fails utterly for me. The words do not call what the poet is trying to represent. The cloud up shaking its shadows at the sun, or sidling up the stair appears merely ludicrous. / dislike the whole idea of the cloud with a 10-22.

the pictures of

pencil in its fingers. The poet does not give me the impression that a little cloud in the sky has really given him the inspiration to write ; all is artificial and sentimental.

If suitable

images are for one reader an invaluable

adjunct to his reading, erratic images for another may be a fatal bar. In general the effect of the intervention of images is to make good better and bad worse. Images in reading are perhaps best regarded as a sign of how the reader is getting on with the poem, they are hardly ever a means which the poet uses, the gap between the verbal image (the figure of speech, the description, simile, or metaphor) and the visual image being too great, and readers' idiosyn-

The littleness of the cloud crasies too surprising. in 10-22, and the pencil in its fingers are contributions of this reader's uncontrolled visualising faculty and these

exercises, like the refusal to see

what the

POEM X

133

poet did try to suggest, are prompted by a prior distaste for the poem whose source is perhaps indicated in his final remark. This seems to be the usual state of affairs when erratic imagery intervenes. It is not invariably so as 10-23 w show. A few victims of extremely lively and vivid imagery do

^

approach poetry (and life) through their visual imaginations, but often their other mental operations are able to correct and compensate for the freakish really

whimsicality this approach entails. I could make little of this poem. It persists in suggesting a night-marish forest scene, with giant drooping ferns, writhing snakes and flashes of red lightning in a blue mist. Superimposed on this, a still more weird picture of a tumbling Babylon. There seems to be a breathless haste in the words when read mentally, but not when read aloud. There is also a rapid and chaotic

jump from the less the

idea to idea which is bizarre and confusing. poem is rather fascinating.

This reader writes to me,

"

I visualise

None

everything

me ", developing by otherwise, things an accident of punctuation a criticism I would not be so rude as to make. Another curiosity of imagery will ventilate a different objection mean

little

to

:

me

Some of the positively bad. 10-24. This poem seems to " lines are decidedly silly, like till 'neath the fern the drowsy snake is conscious of his solitude ". The image is so unpleasant. :

It

seems the poet had a few vulgar ideas and thought he could poem about them.

write a

The

reader has himself to blame

actually unpleasant.

if

his

image was

If all allusions to snakes are to

how

lacking in taste must Milton appear. And further, the assumption that only pleasant images have a place in poetry should be hailed and challenged

be avoided,

whenever

To ance

;

it

pass

appears.

now

critical

to quite another source of irrelevpreconceptions when they intervene as

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

134

to reading are often respectable doctrine crudely applied ; of this the following may appear

obstacles

an example 10*3. The poem is dead because it wants in human interest. The poet has escaped from the world of men. His nearest approach to mankind is the garden stair \ The interest of the poem lies in its cinematographic reproduction in words of a :

*

phenomenon which every mortal has the joy of witnessing with

own eyes. Success lies in the magic of words which in plain black and white are capable of exciting the senses to a vivid appreciation of a series of events the poet has himself minutely observed. Turner does as much by a different medium. his

l

The proper

study of mankind is But, so, poetry everything that can interest man is part of him. Every poem is a tissue of human impulses, and mention of man and his affairs is not needed to interest us. It is a little difficult to make out whether in the end this reader It

may be

man'.

that if

in

overcame his preconception or not.

Some other presuppositions, but of a technical order, deserve more attention. They are many and varied. First may be instanced the assumption that words in themselves have characters are ugly, beautiful, delicate, light, weighty or cumbrous apart from the way in which they are used. With it appears the of a poem parallel assumption that the subject a selection from the certain automatically prescribes '

*

dictionary. 10-4.

The

alliteration in the

poem

is

very effective and gives

one the idea of the cloud drifting slowly over the land and sea. / think the author has rather spoilt it in places by using long, ugly words, such as beneficence, encroachment and elaborate. 10-41. The poet has endeavoured to paint a word picture of a cloud. In order to do this a poet must choose words in accordance with his picture. If the picture is going to be delicate, then must the words be light. If the picture is going to be heavy then must the words be weighty. This poet wanted to paint a delicate picture,

but he mixed delicate and cumbrous words.

Such words

as

miraculous, encroachments, elaborate and benificence tend to

POEM X blurr the picture. Having painted his picture with a harsh question

135 it is

a pity to break

it

What Have ye numbered all your hours And is your empire all fordone ? !

The shown

poet should be content that something beautiful has been to him.

Everything of course turns upon the fashion in which the words are put together, and it is the detailed, instant to instant, development of the poem, not the separable subject abstractly regarded, that governs the diction. The final rebuke to the poet will be considered later. Allied objections were brought on the ground of

cacophony. 10*42.

Very ugly

verse.

first

Climb, cloud

2 hard words,

consonants together.

Climb cloud and pencil all the blue With your miracwlous stocAade. *

'

Hard word like limn not appropriate for the beauty of cloud scenery. 2nd verse, silly thought, awkward rhythm of second line. Cherish each awful mix-up of ch and sh. I don't quite know what the last 2 verses mean what the steel tissue of the sun is but it doesn't seem to matter. '

'

10-43. The whole poem is a rather ungracious and blunt address to the cloud. It strikes me as the work of an amateur or beginner. On the whole it is ugly, chiefly because certain words " are used, and placed badly. Climb, cloud/' repeats sound J> "E.g. " " Miraculous stockade cl. his solitude are difficult to say easily and correctly, and are ugly when said correctly because of the repetition of the s sound.

Without going so

far as

one reader, who heard in

these last sibilants the hissing of the serpent, we may yet lay down as a general principle that no sound in poetry can be judged apart from its place and function in the poem. To apply canons of euphony from outside and bar out certain conjunctions of consonants as ugly, without regard to their exact particular effect

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

i 36

in the precise context in which they come, is as foolish as to condemn a line in a picture without looking at the other lines which may co-operate in

Such arbitrary canons are popular design. because they are simple and because they can be applied (like the imperfect rhyme test, cf. 2-12) without entering into the poem. Fairly specious detailed justifications for all the sounds here inveighed against could be worked out, but the justification would be the

nearly as arbitrary as the accusation. The relations of sound-effects to the rest of the happenings in the poem are too subtle and too mingled for any analysis

much cogency. It is sad to have to discourage so harmless a pastime, but the facts are so. Most alleged instances of onomatopoeia, for example, are imaginary, are cases of the suggestion much more than of the actual imitation of sounds, and equally strong suggestion can be given in other ways. Moreover onomatopoeia never by itself gave any line of verse poetic merit. All these are questions of means and to decide about most of them we have to look to the end. Parallel reflections apply to another technical presupposition that occupied many readers to have

:

10-44. The verse is jangling and jerky and is not what one would think of associating with the steady flowing of a fleecy

cloud.

The

'

'

of this accident of visual imagery.

about

fleeciness

it.

The demand

subject and movement

cloud

The

is

possibly

an

poet said nothing

for correspondence between is a typical example of

The poet has illegitimate technical expectations. certain effects in view. If he chooses to employ certain means, well and good. But to prescribe them to confuse poetry with parlour games. This is true

is

English and of most European poetry. Matters appear to have been otherwise in Chinese at least of

POEM X

13?

A

poetry, but so was it with Chinese battles. victory was not a victory unless it was won on a fine day. poet may imitate the motion of his subject by the motion of his verse. Sometimes it is a great merit that he does so, if his purpose requires that this should be done. It is never a defect if he does not, unless it is clear that he meant to, and that it was necessary for his purpose. Furthermore, the question whether or not a given movement of verse

A

corresponds to any other movement, of visible things or of thoughts or of passions, is excessively delicate. It largely turns on whether the reader is willing to give it this correspondence, on the inducements the poet offers him to find it. For the rhythm of words is not independent of the way the reader chooses to take them. 10-45. Floating, dancing movement of the poem its most striking The second verse is the most successful in the whole feature. a summer poem one feels that the writer really" has watched " " cloud. Note effectiveness of the words shudder and sidle ".

Compare with 10-46.

and

this

The scheme

airy subject

which

:

of this poem is hardly suited to the light is full of motion, while the short monotonous

stanzas are essentially static.

The same

writer introduces us to another

illegiti-

mate expectation which worried many. poem immediately challenges comThe Cloud " and somewhat naturally

10-47. Unfortunately this

parison with Shelley's suffers

by

it.

".

.

We

.

"

cannot imagine

this

cloud would

bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone

A

".

comparison with Shelley's poem to the cloud, shows The treatment is somewhat similar, but whereas Shelley succeeds, this author fails completely. The poem is a fantasy untouched by imagination in the Words worthian sense, a cold, dead piece of work with 10-48.

this

poem

in a very unfavourable light.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

138

no appeal to the reader. If it arouses any interest at all, it awakens antagonism. We are inclined to question whether clouds paint patterns on the flanks of cows, for instance. The last two stanzas seem turgid and over-loaded with gorgeousness. (Cf., however, 12-7).

There are considered.

still

some points about

10-5. I consider this

poem

faulty.

diction to be

There

is

a tendency

to

introduce prosaicisms

which, though

(puzzle, sidle, encroachments, elaborate) doubtless deliberate, is not quite successful.

10-51. I get too much of an impression of artificiality from this to like it. The words are picturesque enough, but the way are strung together seems to me forced and in" " shoot a shudder ", Puzzle ", encroachments ", " "

which they "

in

sincere.

"

frail steel tissue ... are all terms ", It is too either out of place or else too prosaic.

shake your shadow

that full

seem

to

me

of conceits to ring true.

10-53.

One

is

continually

let

down by such words

as limn,

encroachments and benevolence. 10-54. Words with poor, commonplace and prosaic associations are used, e.g. stockade, gorgeous, hinges, sprawling, elaborate.

10-55. Though occasionally the poetry rises to the highest poetic pitch yet it contains many words and phrases unsuited to ' verse. It adds a prosaic nature to the cloud to term it a stockade ; ' or to say that it sidles up the garden stair. More than sidle ', '

*

'

the

A

shadow would seem

to glide swiftly over the steps. bathetic * ' to describe the clouds as sprawling domes

ending to the poem is and tottering towers '. It is realistic description, no doubt, but not poetry. A drunken man sprawls and totters. '

In the absence of any precise theory as to the nature of the prosaic and of any exact demarcation must be reof poetic diction, the term prosaic '

*

*

garded as equivalent only to unsatisfactory '. It is often only a term of abuse. All the words and phrases objected to here are selected as particularly by other writers. The prosaic flavour attributed to stockade ', whether through association with stocks and stones ', with stocks and shares

felicitous

*

'

POEM X

139

or with bully beef, may indicate that Masterman Ready and Treasure Island are not as popular as they

used to be.

How oddly single words may be flavoured for individual readers may be seen from 10-57, perhaps another instance of an accidental visual image. '

10-57. Sprawling ', which is anyhow an ugly word to bring into the climax, does not belong to the kind of cloud that has citadels and a golden belt, but to the filmy pink variety.

The

chorus-girl type perhaps

!

Another prepossession concerning diction we have

met before 10-58.

scarcely

:

The mixture happy in many

of

and Anglo-Saxon words

Latin

is

places.

Who is responsible for disseminating this widespread piece of nonsense about the incompatibility of English words of different origin is a question that deserves to be looked into. It is too frequent not to have some active contemporary source. that of After the accusation of prosaicism romanticism will be a change. '

'

*

'

Presumably cloud obliged by climbing and pencilling, choice example of ugliness of romantic animism Roll thou on, (cf. deep and stormy ocean !). If the wind had changed would poet have got angry ? Puzzle the cattle did anyone ever see cattle puzzled by a cloud. This written in study by one who might have done better by going to the country to learn that clouds are blown by the wind, and do not climb and puzzle cattle and shoot shudders, lay long fingers and perform 10-6.

etc.

Whole poem

similar

'

human

'

actions at

"

O

command of prigs.

sprawling domes,

O God

!

O

O tottering towers "

Montreal

!

Possibly the vocative and the imperatives are responsible for this outburst. The poem succeeded in eliciting much vigorous abuse. This poet tumbles over his metaphors. We confess seen a cloud pencil the sky with its miraculous stockade and never shall. All is confused in the last stanza 10-61.

we have never '

'

'

*

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

i 4o

but one also. There is no clear image, nothing to tell that the writer has grasped the significance of what he is trying to describe. He has certainly brought no clear vision ; we seem to have *

'

golden ranks of corn before. At last he gives up trying to describe even what he has seen, and bolsters up his verse with abstractions wizardries ', sorcery', pomp ', beneficence terms for which the rest of the poem gives no justification.

heard of the

'

'

'

*

'

There

is

no rhythm.

The

according to the set pattern.

metrical framework

is just filled up are vapid and meaningrhyming a hundred similar

The rhymes

The poet could have gone on and its The last stanza is ludicrous, with its What O most lame feeble question. The whole thing breaks down. less.

'

'

stanzas.

!

'

and impotent conclusion

A

!

'.

few found the poem incomprehensible.

10-62. The first two lines of the poem form a good index to the characteristic of the whole. The mixture of the metaphor is significant. Shelley in writing the Ode to the West Wind, conceived of the wind as of a person with very definite charac" " " the uncontrollable teristics destroyer and preserver ". Our has clear no such poet conception ; and the result is that his cloud is as a person with no character, doing all kinds of things, performing all kinds of antics. There is the touch reminiscent of Lewis Carroll in the lines

"

shake your shadow at the sun Darkly reminding him that he Relieve you when your work is done

".

In a single stanza, one learns how the cloud puzzles the cattle, its pleasure on their flanks, and shoots a shudder down the golden ranks of the cornfield. There is no need to multiply instances. paints

The diction lacks strength as much as the poem, and often leaves one wondering what it all means. This piece bores and angers me. It is a mere string words to talk of meaning nothing except that they seem vaguely " Ridiculous phrases are endless about clouds. miraculous " limn your beauty (!?!?!) ", stockade ", the earth will " " " shake your shadow at the sun shoot ... a shudder ", etc., must have been etc. It a for written candidate etc., by Colney Hatch, I should imagine. 10-63.

.

.

.

10*64. I cannot gather what made the poet wish these strange things. If the poet wants rain, why does he dare the sun to shine in the last verse ? It's all very obscure.

POEM X

Some

141

special obscurity does perhaps attach to the

fourth verse. '

Shake your shadow at the sun *, I dislike. I cannot imagine a cloud shaking its shadow at anything, and the word destroys the steady progress of the cloud through the rest of the 10*65.

poem.

The geometry

in this verse proved too difficult for

several. 10-66. is

The cloud cannot shake

between them, nor does

it

its

shadow

at the sun, since

it

appear dark to him.

Others supposed that the cloud itself shook and suggested that only thunder-clouds shake. But if it be the shadow of the cloud, not the cloud itself, that shakes, and if it shakes only through the motion of the sea, there seems to be nothing but sound physics in the thought of the verse.

Equally so, 10-67.

A

if

another interpretation

is

favoured

:

cloud which, moving across the heavens, casts a earth, causing as it were, a shudder on the

shadow over the areas

it

touches.

A

certain change of tone in the poem at the sixth It caused much perturbation verse will be noted. and searching of spirit.

me

to 10-7. This poem, after raising five stanzas, suddenly gave way and let

the keenest delight for

me down again with a bang. The first part quickly met a response. Even as I enjoy the metaphysical poets, I rejoiced here in new imagery, familiar words in new connotations the alliteration added to the sonority "

." and the cloud puzzle the cattle " of corn ; I like those golden ranks " " and its soft encroachments ; it slanting its hand sidling ; " I like its long fingers laid on the sea and the noonday panic The words seem simple and accurate the cold and rude ". ah then. The poem lives and means new vistas" to me. Then, " sixth stanza is respectable, but ", pomp gorgeous designs ", " " and beneficence creep in unwelcome guests. The spirit has changed, Polonius is talking now where Professor Housman spake before. Aping the grand style succeeds so very infrequently,

I like of the lines. " a shudder shooting

I

wonder

gifted poets

.

down

still

try

and

fail.

.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

i 42

10-71 This pleased me at first by the easy quality of the metre which seemed in fact rather more suitable for addressing a cloud than Shelley's much brisker one, also the pictures were so very exact things such as paint your pleasure on their and above all sidle up the garden stair which exactly flanks described one of the most fascinating things, to me personally, .

*

'

'

'

in nature, this constant pursuit of light by darkness, especially when seen in progress across an open tract of country from a

mountain top. Then in the fifth verse I began to slow up. Something new had entered the poem. I struggled through the first two lines of the sixth verse and absolutely crashed at the second couplet. This may be due to natural stupidity, but I felt I owed the

poem

a grudge for misleading

me

as to the style at the

beginning.

The possibility that this change was something deliberately intended by the poet was not meditated by these two readers. If they had considered it I it unlikely that they would not have changed The manner in which they describe their feeling. their sense of the change gives them the air of people pushing at a door that opens inwards.

think

10-72. Slight, perhaps, but charming. An original idea worked out with the aid of original metaphors. An easy flow of language " Then " of stanza 6 is perfectly and sound construction. The timed to avoid monotony and at the same time preserve unhurried motion. It is a pity that the last two lines tail off into an

anti-climax which looks suspiciously like a stop -gap.

These last two lines troubled many manner of conjectures were made

readers. All as to their

emotional tone, though no very satisfactory description

was given.

1073. The last two lines are declamatory and spoil the effect of the delicacy of the preceding part of the poem. 10-74. The question of the last two lines expresses a rather perfunctory and not really earnest regret hardly even a sigh. 10-75.

The

feeling in the last verse of half regretfulness is it raises the poem out of the class of the

important because

It raises a question which the poet does " not answer directly, except perhaps in the line O frail steel

pleasantly descriptive.

POEM X

143

"

which shows he is aware of both ideas, that tissue of the sun It is because he contrasts all is illusionary or that all is of value. to these 2 and raises this idea that the poem seems to

me

be good.

Echoes of The Tempest may be influencing this and Shelley, as well as Wordsworth, inspires and imperils the next. reader

;

1076. You

feel the cloud travelling rapidly in the first five declining in the next, and finally disappearing in a leaving the world cold and desolate behind it. glorious sunset The brief pleasure and joy of living is followed by darkness and death. But although the world totters, you feel the cloud still sailing

verses

;

;

The

inevitably on.

You

"

breathe

glorious survives, man's mortal

still

This poem .

is

dies.

this

the expression of a

The whole

the contrast between

by

work

sad music of humanity ".

common enough feeling verses is rapid movethe sudden change from dark to light, cold to warmth, " " " "

10-77.

transitoriness

ment

the

fleeting

note.

of the

and

frail

It

first five

is

steel

doubtful

if

suggested throughout the poet thoroughly

emotion of joy of an added exhilaration in life through a knowledge of its transitoriness, which should be the natural sequence of the poem. He does not really express this in his last verse, which in its shallow moralizing lessens the more realised the

subtle result of the rest of the

poem.

The chief difficulty seems to be to admit that the poet may have intended a real transition in feeling that he may have passed the point at which 1077 ;

would wish him

to stop

and have gone on

to

do

something more. commences like an airy Robert Louis Stevenson young and old, it ends with the tone of Kipling's "Recessional". Thus it seems to lack unity and to express a 10-78. It for

rhyme

quizzical^ misapplied importunate spirit. "If intended to"be merely " " beneficence and are the clearly serious lines about pride out of place.

how

seriously the grandiloquence of the be taken, is the problem. That a slightly mocking tone comes in with rally your

Exactly

last three verses is to

*

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

144 '

c

'

'

pomp and gorgeous new designs and culminates in the much disliked word sprawling was not noticed. Humour wizardries

continued with

is

'

sorcery',

'

*

'

perhaps the last thing that is expected in lyrical poetry, above all when its theme is nature. If the poet is going to smile he is required to give clear and is

ample notice of

his intention.

Forty years back, when much had place That since has perished out of mind, I heard that voice and saw that face.

He

spoke as one afoot will wind morning horn ere men awake His note was trenchant, turning kind.

A

;

He was of those whose wit can shake And riddle to the very core The counterfeits that Time will break

.

Of late, when we two met once more, The luminous countenance and rare Shone just

as forty years before.

So that, when now all tongues declare His shape unseen by his green hill, I scarce believe he sits not there.

No

matter.

Further and further

still

Through the world's vaporous vitiate air His words wing on as live words will.

.

POEM XI

X

the results of printing Poems and XI on of the issued sheet of four opposite pages poems was the following

AMONG

:

This poem took me a considerable time to enjoy. At two readings I could make little of it the transition from verse 8 to verse 9 rather struck me. I think it is a little sudden. The poem strikes me as imagination run riot. The poem is at first a series of little pictures, very beautiful, and not extravagant for the poet has seized on the right words, shudder ', sidle '. Then comes a rather extravagant passage on silver hinges ', snowy citadels ', sprawling domes ', etc. Then and one the poet seems to turn, suddenly, to old reminiscences particular lost friend seems to occupy his thoughts solely, to the oblivion of the airy imaginations of the former stanzas of the poem. This change is suitably marked by a change in the verse form four lines to three lines ottava rime, the stanza form II- 1.

the

first

*

'

'

'

'

*

which, with a variation, Shelley uses for the

Who

shall say after this that

out to meet our poets

This poem enthusiasm. protocol,

West Wind

'

ode.

our readers do not go

?

stirred

comparatively few flights of reason for this is stated in a

One good

1 1 -2,

to

which particular attention may be

The demand

drawn.

there expressed is not often frequently present and is explicitly doubtless the explanation of as much poetry-reading as it is of concert-going.

avowed yet

1 1 *2.

Its

reflective,

it is

conversational

manner awakens a

mood, rather than a rapture, and since rapture

is

quiet

what 1 want of

*

poetry i it is lacking to me. Its allusion to much, perished out of mind ', clothes its subject in a mysterious importance. Vaporous offended me. Outside of the mood, / felt no real vitiate air If they had been my personal connection, no personal emotion. '

'

147

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

148

words winging on, or

my

death, or

let

my

me

if he had alluded to should have felt it more

closest friend's it

so

making

a

apply

I

deeply.

The

writer

is

little difficulty

in agreeing to

demand we be

have

shall

illegitimate

when he

Yet emotion in this fashion. is to be so misused rarely very poetry which refuses may meet with rapture popular. His desire for more sympathy. But is there any good reason to require it from all poetry ? The confusion between quality and intensity of experience we have noticed asks

for

personal

'

*

before.

The complaint

that the poet here has avoided any

violent stirrings of emotion appears frequently !! 21. It arouses no emotions in

says, but

feel

no

interest in

me.

I

:

understand what

it

it.

a typical example. It is allied to two other expectations that the poet also failed to fulfil.

This

is

ii22. The reader has a feeling of knowing the only at second hand. We are not made to see htm. 1 1

'24. I feel there is

something wrong with

this

man

poem. Perhaps

that the poet plunges too quickly into his subject not pause to create an atmosphere.

it is

described

;

he does

Vivid presentation, with or without a visual appeal, and atmosphere are, of course, rightly required from some poetry. It is a natural result that they should by some readers be expected from all. But to avoid them is often precisely the poet's endeavour. To prescribe what he shall try to do is less reasonable than to hope that he will do something we should not have thought of suggesting. The prescription that the dead man should be described led not only to disappointment. It led some to find more description than they perhaps had warrant. '

'

POEM He

11-25.

XI

149

has, as he intended, given the reader a complete man whom he wished to describe.

understanding of the

We

can recognise the subject of this poem as a man 11-26. with depth of character, power of inspiration and leadership, a friend with a great and loving heart.

To

compensate for these excesses

:

11-27. Portraits of strangers seldom interest air of being a good one.

me, although

One

come forward.

this

has the

curiously logical enthusiast did

11-28. Evidently written

for an admirer reveres the

Since

we

are

all idealists

we

by a sincere admirer

man who

i.e.

an

idealist,

carrying out his ideals. must approve of this poem extreme is

:

friendship between men (i.e. admiration) always appeals to us, since we imagine our state of life if we found someone who proves an inseparable part of whole. Bears mark of sincerity

not idle tongue-worship sincerity can never be despised another reason for approval. :

;

such admirable sentiments should but the conpremises idealists should approve of every-

It is a pity that

make such

insubstantial

;

clusion that all thing that other idealists do

is

more easy

to reject

than to refute.

Complaints of obscurity were, on the whole, not more frequent than might have been expected. 11*3. I think

prolonged and very careful study might reveal I have only an idea that there is one.

its

At present

meaning.

11-31. Bad, vague simile

"

as

one afoot etc."

"

His note was

"

? trenchant, turning kind Language again vague and thought " can shake and riddle etc." Last stanza particularly obscure : as all the poem is inconsequential, trivial in conludicrous With the ception and words, last verse sinks into bathos. language of degree of feeling of a Patmore or a Christina Rossetti, the inconsequence, the triviality and the cheerful faith of the amateur that after all the poem might be the real thing, mark it :

as fourth or fifth class.

The poem seems an

incoherent medley of unrelated reader no impression of the actual Leaves the with fragments. character or appearance of his subject. One learns that the old man has a voice of volume and power. 11*32.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

150

Others learnt, or failed to learn, even stranger things. 11-33. There is a feeling of the great, strong silent man which means nothing at all. The poem is summed up in the last few " I feel here that the poet is as live words mean ". words trying to make a strong impression and failing miserably. What are live words and whatever they are why should they vitiate ,

:

through the vaporous air ?

Not much more tive effort

successful

was

this

more apprecia-

:

11-34. A. few deft strokes of a powerful brush painting a < portrait of a powerful character on a counterfeit which Time the would break if poem were lost. I like the poem for (i) Its '

life-force, (2) its appreciation of truth of

Points of diction

came

*

in for

live-words

much

even an admirer being shocked by the

'.

discussion,

last verse.

11-4. Merits of sincerity, of simplicity, of probability. Provides clear picture of subject. The line I scarce believe he sits not *

"

'

there This is Ancona, yonder is the trembles on Browning's " sea ", but actually reaches the height of Wordsworth's Milton thou shouldst be living at this hour. England hath need of thee ". Would have done well to end here. Last stanza weak: more due to vocabulary and construction. " Vaporous though this " " damnable. As live words will ", to finish off tribute vitiate air like this, very feeble should have ended on note of words !

:

winging on. On the whole good, tho' apparently immature.

The comparisons adduced probably explain why the ending so frustrated this reader's expectation, though the movement of the last line gave several sorts of trouble. The last verse is not convincing. " Vaporous vitiate " not happy. Is it reasonable to expect air to be anything else but vaporous ? The briskness, almost the skittishness, of the last line of all I find intolerable. 11-41.

is

The answer

to the question

seems to be

*

In some

Intellectual-moral climates need not climates, yes \ be supposed to be more uniform than their physical

POEM XI

151

We

analogues. might agree, however, about the effect of the alleged skittishness if it existed. The of elusive been the seems to have rhythm poem :

It does not seem great, but there is something about it. I must say that it is the attraction of a jazz tune which one can only tolerate a few times. The poem may answer a real emotion, but so do some of the horrid writings on tombstones.

11*411.

attractive

r

There is no compelling subject in fact no construction is forced and at times the metaphors are absurd. The second verse is nonsense. The second line of verse four is particularly poor, only excelled perhaps by the second line of the last verse. Who ever heard anything so " The world's vaporous vitiate air ". The strained, so artificial as effort was not worth the ink it used. 11-42. This at all.

is

trash.

,

The

subject

more the

Yet

once observed

correlation

fatal

may be

:

1 1

-42 1. I

as

feel

though

sentimental, to say that "

phrase

vaporous

it

were indulgent and just a

I

attains

my

bit

standards except for the one

vitiate air ".

To

complete the indictment " He was of those Time 11-43. :

will break ", is a long " He hated all frauds ". Stanza 5, too, is very saying difficult to read aright. The poem has not the majesty required for an epitaph on an honoured friend. .

.

.

way of

The

prior

demand expressed

seems to have as given in the

little

justification as the paraphrase to set

Here is another paraphrase 11-32, and 11*34.

first.

beside those in

in the last sentence

"

All tongues declare", is being pompous over, "it is 11-44. " " said just for the sake of the form of the poem. Vaporous, vitiate air ", is ridiculous rather than impressive.

The

exercise of imagining a better reason for the '

*

pomposity

may be

suggested.

-45. This might well have been written by one commonIt is place clergyman of another commonplace clergyman. redeemed neither by pleasing metaphors nor deep thought, 11

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

1 52

while passion

is

entirely absent. It failed after several readings to One thing alone is striking at all on me.

make any impression

and significant in the poem that the complimented person live words '. would never wing *

'

*

And to prove how rash some attempts to infer the character of a writer from his poetry may be :

is the work of someone who, whilst acquainted with second hand through the experience of others, has not

11*46. It

much

at

taken the trouble to acquire his basis for values and judgment.

Some more balance 1 1

set of experiences as a

favourable opinions will redress the

:

The rhythm

'5.

own

dealt with

at

once suggests real emotion successfully that face That voice (' '

by the technique

.

.

.

The similes are used not as simple, but not affectedly simple). added decoration^ but to make the shades of experience clearer shows So too trenchant, turning kind (e.g. 2nd stanza). an effort at accuracy which a lesser poet would have abandoned on account of the slight clumsiness involved. *

Some

of the praise has, at

'

first

sight,

an

air of

paradox. 5 1. Heightened by none of usual poetic diction.

Bareness Experience as bare as words, nothing more than statement of fact. Bareness gives impression of intensity. Poet has no time or wish to play with pretty images. Thing described too weighty to be added to or dressed up in poetic formula. 1 1

varied

by

occasional effectively ugly phrase.

We

notice first the perfect suitability of the metre and 11*52. There is a tranquility and gentle melancholy the language. which we can feel by reading the poem without paying very much attention to the subject matter. When this latter element is considered, it will be found that the poem is an harmonious whole. There is something very balanced and sane about this poem. It seems to say just what is wanted in the best possible way. Every sentence seems fitting there is no expression we should quarrel with. is the real thing. In contrast to Poem IX the the poem. Moreover there is a sense of universality about this piece which stamps it as poetry of the major order. The poet is not concerned with trivialities but with the funda1 1 '53.

rhythm

This

is in

POEM XI mental facts of existence. "

His

poem

153 is

in the

best sense a

His positive, creative, dynamic. of is to the task moreover completely equal giving technique There is an economy, a effective expression to his experience. of

criticism

It

life ".

is

lack of verbosity or any kind of ornamentation, which is utterly appropriate to the subject. The metre also is in keeping, and the rhyme-form one of considerable subtlety. The whole poem leaves one with a sense of complete satisfaction.

"

middle a straightforward piece of work in the kind of writing which neither towers to the skies nor creeps " along the ground (Johnson's Life of Dryden). It is a graceful 11-54.

This

is

.

.

.

tribute, born rather of a general feeling slowly finding voice than of a definite emotional experience. The style, everywhere relying on the sequence of ideas, is appropriate (and this is the greatest

restrained and yet dignified, praise) to an elegy on a dead friend fresh without false emphasis, sincere without gush. :

Finally, lest this opinion should be thought too easily attained :

11-56. I dislike it for its stilted and high-flung style, and feel that the author might have come down from his high-horse for just

a moment in speaking of his departed friend.

The

further these researches extend, the more misleading does Bishop Butler's celebrated paradox *

appear. Everything is what it is, and not another ', thing may be a convenient principle to apply to things when we have caught them, but until then it is a poor guide to the investigator.

Solemn and gray, the immense clouds of even Pass on their towering unperturbed way Through the vast whiteness of the rain-swept heaven, The moving pageants of the waning day ;

Heavy with dreams, Brooding with

desires, prognostications, sullen and Titanic crests,

surge, whose mantles' wise imaginations Trail where Earth's mute and languorous body rests While below the hawthorns smile like milk splashed From Noon's blue pitcher over mead and hill The arrased distance is so dim with flowers

They

;

It

seems

itself

some coloured cloud made still dying daylight crown

O how the clouds this

With the tremendous triumph of

tall

towers

!

;

:

down

POEM HERE

XII

some

irrelevances have to be noticed, but had more influence in increasing the popularity of the poem so they may be thought to have more critical significance.

again

in this case, as they

1

2- 1.

At a glance the poem reveals

Not only

its

grandeur and power.

the description powerful but the very roll of the In these sonorous lines lines is as the rumble of heavy clouds. whose sound is so well suited to its sense, there is something which sets one dreaming. is

n. The majestic pageantry of the clouds is ever a favourite with poets. In the other poem on clouds, the atmosphere was light here the sky is black with rain filled clouds of ill omen. The poet conveys the right atmosphere. When I look at the evening sky in windy wintry moods, / always love to think I am looking at a pageant of souls, passing on to the throne of " the Most High, to be judged and atone for misdeeds The 12-

topic

;

moving pageants of the waning day

".

unfair to be reminded of the concert-goer's "I always love to go and hear Tristan explanation " and Isolde. I live all my love-affairs over again ? Several writers contrasted the poem with No. X. Is

it

:

12-2. Offers a great contrast to the opposite poem. Here a certain grandeur, and reverence in the poet for his subject reflects itself in the verse.

A

poet

who

permits himself to be anything but Nature does so at his peril.

very respectful to

I2-2I. When this poet broods on the cloud patterns he sees not so much the long fingers on the sea and the shudder on the corn (though he is conscious of them and of their beauty) but rather the spiritual elements of which these are to him the symbols. 155

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

156

The

reader seems here to

know too much. Another

symbolist, however, in part explains these certitudes.

The 12*22. Not merely a picture of nature but suggestive. clouds are symbolic of some brooding spirit : they arouse dreams, The atmosphere is desires, prognostications in their beholder. while we read the poem it hypnotises us that of the poet's mind We become languorous and absorbed in into the same mood. " the arrased distance ". :

The persistence with which so many readers loaded the poem with such extra interpretations, with Stendhalian crystallisations ', has probably two explanations. 12-23 maY P ut us on the track of *

them both. 12-23. I get more because of the rolling

'

'

out of this at each reading, partly rhythm and sonority, and partly because I can feel something I cannot understand, and I want to go on trying to understand until I get right into the poet's mind. Like falling

kick

in love.

This seems a valuable hint. The process is very under rather distant and formal conditions and without much intimate acquaintance. Others, with a different result, were affected in a similar manner. like falling in love,

One is led by the 12-24. This is elusive at a first reading. general vagueness of the opening to attribute to it poetic qualities which it lacks. Actually there is not a great deal to be said for it, it apes, rather obviously, Shelley's manner, with inconspicuous success. Nearly all the words are so well worn as to have become commonplace unless very adroitly used. When the writer attempts originality he is almost unintelligible. What, for instance, is the wise imagination of the mantel of a cloud, or the smile of spilt milk ? 12-25. I fee l

and

someone is trying to play with my emotions, the same way that I dislike sobstuff in a film.

I dislike it in

Those who most admired the poem gave reason, with unusual unanimity, the

the rhythm.

as their

movement

of

POEM

XII

12-3. I think this very good.

Its

157

power

to

move

is

in its

rhythm which is so swelling and big and solemn in the first part. It does not give many pictures or visual images and I do not think the sense has very much to do with the effect. It is just that, somehow, one is brought into touch with the grandeur of the clouds, which one feels as a permanent thing not a transitory pleasure like that the clouds give in the second poem.

The poem

i2'3i.

stately roll

approaches

lines distantly reminiscent of

Shakespeare

starts

grandly:

its

ecstasy.

Here we have

12*32.

'

and the

honest boldness

'

of the Elizabethans.

Especially in' the management of the long words, which help to get across the effect of the vastness of the scene described, are we reminded of the great poets of our language. The vastness of the picture and the ideas of the poet are conveyed in magnificent lines that *

strain

and nearly break down the imagination.

Before examining these declarations more closely us consider some of those objections which do not seem to invalidate them. let

c

The abuse. 12-4.

'

pathetic fallacy is again (Cf. 7-31 and 10-6.)

The

poem seems

rest of the

made

a

ground for

to be rubbish because

(a) A cloud cannot have desires '. imaginations '. (b) A mantel cannot have (c) Imaginations cannot trail '. Milk does not smile '. (d) Dim with flowers is rather weak. (e)

:

*

*

'

'

'

'

*

'

*

'

flowers brightened things. * do not Tall towers (/) '

Anyhow sight

I

I

always thought

'

*

so far as I know. triumph never saw one doing it Might be an interesting !

!

These complaints (except (#)) rest upon an assumption about language that would be fatal to poetry. All these things may happen in a poem if there is any good reason for them happening or advantage gained. Some sympathy may be felt, however, in the present instance, with complaints (6), (c) and (d). Worse-founded objections with the same presupposition actually stated are combined in 12*41 with other misunderstandings.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

158

12*41. A terrible wash of words without any Swinburnian After half-a-dozen readings one has a faint rhythmic music. glimmer of the meaning, only to find it not worth while. There's Don't 'e take the shutters down nothing in the shop, But Lor !

dignified. Says the clouds sink in course of day, producing sunset. Again animistic pitfall : heavy with dreams, desires, prognostica-

Brooding with sullen and Titanic crests, they surge. but Yes but they don't. They may be heavy with t O vapour

tions,

H

The dreams

Should take Contradiction of arrased a course in elementary psychology. The last (arras shows clear-cut figures) and dim with flowers. line a Toothful. that's all.

There

is

much

etc. are in poet's

mind.

here that will have to be discussed

in Part III.

The assumption

'

'

subject automatically dedies hard. Several complained treatment fines that the author's poem was not exactly that which they would have written themselves. *

that

'

12-5. Gone is the fundamental poetry of earth and all that the " mute and languorous author supplies us with in its place, is a " what a Can vision. joyless anyone imagine Wordsworth body receiving inspiration from such a cold cheerless sunset, duly set " off by conventional clouds, with their tremendous triumph of " ? no. Instead of the quiet beauty of an English tall towers evening full of the fresh smell of newly watered foliage, when the drowsy twilight creeps from the hawthorn thickets across the dusty white road and the wayfarer stops for his evening meal, we find an extravagantly portrayed vista of a totally unsympathetic and unnatural world. If poetry is the best words in the best order such words as prognostication seem a little out of place.

Prosodists indulge in their usual antics. 12-51. This sonnet is spoilt by its irregularity of arrangement, and by some harsh scansion. It is only by a great effort that one can render the first line at all as an iambic pentameter. The accent " " in that line is very ugly. on the Again in the gth line. There are three syllables in the first foot, and two are full long " " below becomes something like " blow ". ones, so that The simile in the gth and roth lines must be peculiar to In any case, why should Noon splash milk more the writer. than any other part of the day ? In the nth line we have a word which three English dictionaries fail to recognise. Does " arrased " mean the same

POEM

XII

159

" " " raised ", or is it something to do with erased ", or scraped' " " " up" or with arras meaning tapestry ? The tremendous triumph of tall towers " is not strictly " " which moving pageant applicable to clouds which are the " " mantle on the earth ". Such towers would surge ", yet trail a be somewhat unstable as

12*52.

The poem "

is

depressing, the use of such words and " " ", waning ", "prognostications ",

heavy as dreams

phrases as

macabre ". The gloom which to me is almost and in fact it seems almost like a ; prosaic heavy, language piece of prose, turned into blank verse for the occasion. etc. create a is

The

complaint that the language

is

prosaic

is

hardly what one would have expected, nor do the rhymes seem so unobtrusive. Abuse that shows evidence of closer reading is not lacking. 12*6. This sonnet is plastered with highly-coloured words whose use is not strongly justifiable. The fifth line, for example, Titanic is is, clap-trap. though mildly pleasing, vague. '

'

'

The simile of the Mantles wise imaginations is nonsense. but there is hawthorns is easily the best thing in the poem some confusion in making the milk issue from Noon's blue Moreover the very mention of Noon pitcher why Noon? Arrased distance is an affected disturbs the picture of evening. dim is inaccurate. with and flowers phrase, 1

J

;

*

'

'

'

Words used blindly for 12*61. Licentiously verbose. mothy aura of suggestion rather than for their meaning.

Comparison with Poem

their

X

exercised an influence, was perhaps unfortunate. We may conclude with two protocols which show clearly what the main division of opinion, and the choice between the two poems, turned upon.

negative or positive, that

12*7. This poem gives what the other poem on the cloud does not, the impression that the author is deeply moved by his own

thoughts. This man can move us to see and feel the picture he shows the heavy menacing clouds, the deep violent colouring, The clouds become the majestic grandeur of sky and earth. " " and Titanic sullen crests with ", alive, triumphant ", brooding " " solemn". With long weighty words unperturbed 'V* imagina" " " " with tions ", Prognostications ", languorous ", tremendous ;

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

r6o

a sparing use of unimportant syllables the author achieves the desired impression of weight. It is a poem that can be repeated

again and again for the mere delight of the richness of the language. It is an exceptionally strong and colourful poem, not merely descriptive but showing in a small degree the author's attitude to

life.

With

this

10-48, by the same note that neither he nor

may be compared

It is interesting to

writer.

any other admirer of Poem XII attempted to expound lines 9 and 10, though not a few were inclined to question them. This poem elicited a hearty grin and several re-readings. annoyed me and I think I know why. It "instantly challenges " with the second poem Nature, clouds ", towercomparison " " " " " flowers ", corndecline ", ", ", waning day garden ing ", " mead and hill ", " crown ", and " towers ". This poem fields ", seems highly conceived. It ought to be enjoyable and yet I had great difficulty in catching its mood. When I was convinced I had it I found I was feeling quite artificial and unnatural. I believe " " the author knows his it tries hard to be poetic poetic diction 12*71.

It

(which

count against him).

I

The

subjects of both poems invite the reader to in his own soul, a poem of his own. Both material. Any description of such scenes supply the will easily start poetic function going in the

make up,

When, as in Poem XII, the inaverage reader. is coupled with a high-sounding grandiloquent diction and a very capably handled march of verse, when, above all, the movement is familiar and hypnotic ', when there is nothing to force the reader to work at it, we feel safe in going ahead, the poetic function slips loose and private poems result. It was with such poems that so many readers fell in vitation

'

am

confirmed in this opinion by noticing of the most ardent admirers of even none, Poem XII, attempted any close analysis of it of the the kind which admirers of Poem constantly produced. No one seriously tried to elucidate whose mantles' wise imaginations trail ', to explain the force love.

I

that

X

c

POEM '

'

XII

161 '

'

of mute and languorous or dim with flowers or to point out some appropriateness in the moving pageant of the waning day or to appraise moving in this line. The application of these words in the ;

'

'

poem was

considered, they were enjoyed, as it by readers content to loll at ease swinging softly in the hammock of the rhythm,

were

little

in vacuo,

satisfied to find at last something that sounded like poetry and disinclined to be at pains to ascertain whether it also read like poetry. There remains, of course, for later discussion, the question of the value of such swoon-reading as compared for example with the querulousness of

12-41.

In the village churchyard she lies, is in her beautiful eyes, No more she breathes, nor feels, nor At her feet and at her head Lies a slave to attend the dead, But their dust is white as hers.

Dust

stirs

Was she a lady of high degree, So much in love with the vanity And foolish pomp of this world

of ours Christian charity, And lowliness and humility, The richest and rarest of all dowers ?

Or was

it

Who

shall tell us ? No one speaks ; colour shoots into those cheeks, Either of anger or of pride, At the rude question we have asked Nor will the mystery be unmasked By those who are sleeping at her side.

No

;

Hereafter ? And do you think to look On the terrible pages of that Book To find her failings, faults, and errors Ah, you will then have other cares, In your own shortcomings and despairs, In your own secret sins and terrors !

?

;

,

POEM INDIGNATION rose high

A

ranged wide.

XIII

in the case of this

glance

at

Appendix B

poem, and will show the poems.

most disliked of all Some special explanation seems to be required for a combined attack so varied in temper, ground and

that

it

was by

far the

direction, yet so united in hostile intention. As has been remarked before, a very wary eye is needed with any poetry that tends to implicate our

stock responses. And this for two opposite reasons. If the easiest way to popularity is to exploit some stock response, some poem already existent, fully prepared, in the reader's mind, an appearance of appealing to such stock responses, should the reader happen to have discarded them, is a very certain way of courting failure. So that a poet who writes on what appears to be a familiar theme, in a way which, superficially, is only slightly unusual, runs a double On the one hand, very many readers will not risk. They will respond with the really read him at all. to have written and then, him poem they suppose in horror to heap abuse on the if emancipated, recoil On the other hand, less emancipated poet's head. readers, itching to release their own stock responses, may be pulled up by something in the poem which

prevents them. The result will be more abuse for the hapless author. Now to illustrate and justify these reflections. Here is a writer who finds only a stock experience in the poem. 13-1.

He

is

only mildly disappointed however

This one seems to

experience whose value

is

me

a successful

communication of an

dubious, or which at most 163

:

is

valuable

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

164

Plainly, I think, the communication only on a small scale. succeeds by reason of its medium simple, straightforward, almost bald language, making no demand on any peculiar individual characteristic which might be a bar to general appreThe reasons ciation, as in the poetry of Blake, for instance. for my judgment of the experience-value are harder to formulate. I think one may be that the experience does not go very much " " who was ordinary man further than it would in the case of an not a poet, so that its very raison d'etre is a questionable quantity. ;

It

does, in fact,

Here

is

seem

to

me

rather

trite.

another in the same case and only slightly

less tolerant.

The theme is commonplace and the poet has failed to new significance by his treatment. The simplicity of the

13-11.

give

it

poem

is

that of sentimentality rather than that of profound

emotion.

A

third finds again only stock material and stock treatment. His description of what he finds, just a few commonplaces about Death the Leveller may make us doubt the closeness of his reading. '

'

The

poet has attempted to describe a quiet contemplative has not felt it. These are just a few commonplaces about Death the Leveller uttered with an ill-feigned naivete which cannot pass for sincerity. The poem is like the oft-delivered sermon of a preacher who knows what he ought to say. Hence " " a lady of high degree ", all its conventional tricks vanity " Christian and foolish pomp", charity", "failings, faults and " " " and above all he might have added errors trespasses " the village churchyard", the conventional setting for ruminations upon death. 13-12.

mood.

He

The same interpretation

appears in other protocols

13-13. The first three stanzas are preoccupied with the lessness of humans in the grip of death.

The power actually in the

:

power-

of the stock response to hide what is poem is remarkable here, for he adds :

13-131. It is all on the same dead level. Each stanza is divided into two parts which balance each other. But the two parts bear precisely the same relation to each other in each stanza ; and all the six half-stanzas

embody precisely

the

same

idea.

POEM

XIII

165

The opposing danger that may arise from the interference of stock responses is well illustrated in 13-2. Instead of complaining that the poem is too much, he condemns it for too little what being he expected, but in the end he combines

these

objections. 13-2.

This poem

is

rubbish.

The

first

couplet invites com-

parison with 11

I wish I were where Helen lies Night and day on me she cries ", ;

which shows up its crudeness. The dust in her eyes is confusing and the additional dust of the sixth line raises such a cloud that impossible to see through it. Questions in poetry rarely come off and this second stanza is weak-kneed. If only he could have substituted his questions with it is

something like

"

She was

When

a

first

phantom of

delight

she gleam'd upon

my

sight ".

// is not poetic to refer to the sensitive colouring of a maiden's cheek as shooting. The prophecy in the last stanza is a gross example of a pious

platitude and an insult to writer had been the first to

our

own

anyone with a conscience. tell us to remove the beam '

*

If the '

from

'

eyes before looking for a moat in another's the poem might have stimulated. But the thought has many times been better clothed.

Whether there

'

any emphasis on you verse of the poem, and,

'

in the of the last if so, of what character, are points discussed below. But, lest it be thought that I over-estimate the part played by stock responses in these readings of the poem, first line

let

will

me

cite

be

felt.

13-3.

is

another example as to which no doubt

Or was it Christian charity, And lowliness and humility '

'

?

be permitted to ask what it Was what refers to ? " Christian charity ? Also does the richest and rarest of all " dowers refer to Christian charity, lowliness or humility ? or all three ? If the latter then I must object, because Christian

Might I

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

166

charity is a very ugly thing and neither rare nor rich (v. of All Flesh, Samuel Butler, passim).

The

Way

The

writer has evidently fitted himself up with a me down reaction from one of the most up-to-date dealers. He continues with notable confidence in his powers of divination *

'

reach

:

13-31.

do

Don't think

like to get

I

mind

obscurity, because

somq meaning sooner or

later,

and

I

don't

this

;

but I

poem seems

very muddled and confused. At all events the poem is not worth much effort on the part of the reader because the underlying emotion is not of sufficient value. Nor has the poet anything to impart to us, he merely writes to hear his own voice, and any other subject would have suited him just as well.

Possibly the this case,

but

poem many

did not receive much effort in other readers, who may have

been more pertinacious, had

little

better success.

13-4. The sentiments expressed in this poem are by no means uncommon. The poem leaves the reader as it found him. The first verse of the poem states the lady's present condition. The first two lines of the second verse ponders on the question

as to

whether she was a lady of high degree, then goes on "

Or was

it

to ask

Christian charity ".

Was what Christian charity ? Perhaps the slaves lying at her head and feet, in that case was there need to ask the question. The charity of Christians hardly takes such a peculiar form.

These

slaves proved a great difficulty.

13-41. I

do not know what suggested the

dead

;

monument monument 13-42. I

should

slaves to attend the graves, the idea is far-fetched, if statuary on a to the lady, we are given no other hint of such a

if villagers'

anyway, the metaphor don't

like to

know what

is

exotic

and out of

place.

the 2 slaves are symbolic of

I

know.

13-43. This gush of sentiment and evangelical piety is one of the worst things I have seen in the manner of Longfellow and Mrs Hemans. It has not even the merit of lucidity. // is not customary to bury slaves by the body of their mistress in a village A typical mark of uninspired writers of verse is churchyard. their tendency to dwell on the theme of the brevity of human

POEM

XIII

167

This poem is a vague reflection on that subject, with genuine emotion, good rhythm, or effective phrasing. life.

This reader was very delicate for he adds The number

13-431.

enough

make one

to

little

:

of marks of interrogation in the piece

is

sick.

were not enough to make him inquire what it was all about. If such burials were customary, the poem, which turns Apparently, for

all

that, they

entirely upon the surprising presence of the slaves, would, presumably, never have been written. Some of the conjectures advanced by those who took note of this point were not lacking in daring. 13-45. It is a satirical poem. The words which mar the poem as a poem of beauty aid it as a satire. These words persuade the reader that the poem is not to be taken seriously and we are

not shocked too forcibly by the first verse in which, I believe, we are meant to realise that two slaves were buried alive with their dead

and in the last verse the poet is able to deliver his on us because he has disguised his seriousness by a artificial manner. mistress,

their dust should be as

attack light,

'

white as hers ', and those who are sleeping at her side are the same as those lying at her feet and at her head ', were further questions, and even some very careful and acute readers were in doubt whether a monument

Why

whether

'

'

'

is

implied.

13-46. If the lady was not known to the poet before her how does he know that her eyes were beautiful ? And why bring such very big guns to bear on a piece of surely quite

decease

harmless curiosity unnecessarily hard on himself for asking a question very innocent if rather foolish for if Christian charity had prompted the disposition of the bodies the slaves would Its scarcely have been at the feet and head, but at the side. extreme seriousness and queer na'iveU point, I feel, to an American origin.

13-461. Why shouldn't slaves have white dust ? And is what Christian charity ? The coy surprise in the third verse at the lack of a response seems uncalled for.

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

68

Careful reading reveals harder.

1 3 -462.

the

" "

poem Dust

".

We

muddle and makes response

to

think of her dust in the earth.

This makes us think of her alive. But her, not whether she is "of high or not. But here we are asked to assume her degree " beautiful ", presumably because she was a eyes were

Beautiful eyes ".

we know nothing about "

woman. "

This muddles one. What is white as hers ". the point of it ? Why white ? Unless it is symbolic of something, it suggests that he had actually seen the dust. But he hadn't, apparently, to judge by the rest of stanza i.

But their dust is

Then

"

But she those cheeks ". asked to think of her flesh.

In view of

is

dust,

and here we are

reason to think either that there was that she is seen sometimes as a heap of dust round a skeleton and sometimes as a beautiful This makes stanzas i and 3 worthless, because they corpse. build on a visual image which has no reality.

some

all this

sort of a

there

is

monument, or

r

13-47. If visual images are introduced, however,

we

need,

I

This I like but find imperfect. shall maintain, at least two sets. Dust in the eye has of course the authority of Nashe, 1 but I do not feel

know

it

quite right in this

more concrete work.

Nor do

I

how

to account for a lady in a village churchyard " " with a couple of Egyptian (?) slaves. And their dust seems to indicate that the bodies are long since pulverised, which is all

quite

But also if the lady right but jars with the dust-in-eye image. " " dust you would hardly expect to find colour into shooting " " Rude question seems just a bit comic. But the her cheeks.

is

rhythm seems to me good, and the last stanza is very good. If this is Longfellow it shows traces of his muddle of Gothic stuff with New England meeting-house experience. Not null, though, by any means. Simply a bit clumsy. It

will

perhaps be well to insert here

my own

interpretation of these points. That the slaves are negro servants seems sufficient 1

Brightness

falls

from the

air,

Queens have died young and fair. Dust hath closed Helen's eyes.

POEM

XIII

169

justification of the last line of stanza ing at her side are all the other I

churchyard.

i

.

Those

sleep-

inmates of the

take the lines

Dust

is

in her beautiful eyes

and

No

colour shoots into those cheeks t

to refer to her sculptured effigy, and find no difficulty in passing from the thought of the monument to the

thought of the mortal remains at the end of the first stanza. This reading seems to me to remove the

and inconsistencies

felt by the two last writers. Whether there actually exists such a monument anywhere is, of course, an entirely immaterial, though

jars

not an uninteresting, question. We may now turn to some of the objections brought not against the logic or clarity of the poem but against its tone and feeling. Here are some of the more spirited denunciations. The influence of the stock response danger will not be overlooked. 13-5.

This poem is a bastard of spurious rectitude and false or, if you prefer, was gotten by a small Squire on

simplicity

some cretinous evangelical ninny. it but must confess to being a little tion

(I

hardly liked to

fascinated

come near

by such an emana-

from Joanna Southcott's Gladstone bag).

Artistically it is beneath 13-51. This poem is maudlin. contempt. The meter is quite unsuited to the subjectas well as the tripping metre of the line : being irregular from verse to verse :

And

foolish

pomp

of this world of ours

jars terribly. The thought is either bitter and coloured with the as in the last verse which is most idea of retributive justice or utterly commonplace, and cheaply sentiunpleasant in tone ;

mental.

It

was

certainly written by a neurotic or a fanatic with a

diseased mind.

Protests against the tripping rhythm were, indeed, not infrequent, and were associated with evidence of

moral shock.

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

70

Contrast the solemnity of the

13-52. Artistically insincere. the frivolous rhythm.

theme with ("

On

the terrible pages of that Book Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum With a hey and a ho and a hey

nonny no

").

The

uncertainty whether the slaves in the first stanza were really buried with the lady or only shown on the tomb, introduces an irritation at the start. There is a* mock pre-Raphaelitish simplicity "

2nd stanza

"

Christian charity ") (" lady of high degree " Next world of ours is a piece of impudent sentimentality. " " a serious lapse of stanza is a fuss about nothing ; and rude taste. It is intolerable that this Sunday-school didacticism (vide especially stanzas 2 and 4) should be connected with the idea of death and decay. in the

"

:

this

i3'53. From the rhythm of this poem I deduce that it was written in a state of semi-somnolence by a man with St Vitus's Dance. He was unable to keep himself awake after the end of the fourth stanza, and he wants us now to suppose that the poem ends there. I dare say that the author writes pieces like

with quite effortless fluency God protect us from this kind of spontaneity The author has no concrete notion of what he wishes to communicate, or why, and assumes a false, specious kind of naivete* to make his reader think he is being passionately this

;

!

sincere.

A

foolish is

"

phrase like

foolish

"

and pompous.

"

pomp of this world of ours is both The richest and rarest of all dowers "

sheer gush

13-54. This is beyond all words. If the last stanza represents the purpose and spirit of the piece a sermon in four stanzas one can only be thankful the sermon was not any longer. Also the good lady's failings, faults, and errors are most commonplace, everyday and typical '. Had the poet hinted at revenge by a jealous husband for a sordid domestic intrigue between the dusty wife and her dusky slaves, the last stanza might have '

assumed some

*

'

*

'

reality.

This expert on reality adds 13-6. I am no prosodist, but those who :

some choice comments

They 13-61. is

had.

The

to

Here

are

versification is

presumably the criterion.

are will doubtless have

make.

some of them. worth examining.

The

first verse

It consists of three eight syllable lines

POEM

XIII

171

followed one of seven syllables, one of eight syllables and one of seven syllables. The next verse consists of three nine syllable The third and lines followed by one of eight and two of nine. The third verse fourth verses seem to have no plan at all. consists of one line of seven syllables, three of eight, one of ten The fourth verse (hitherto imintroduced) and one of nine. consists of one line of nine syllables, followed by one of ten, nine, eight and two of nine. TJie irregularities of the metre are very confusing and displeasing 13-62.

to the ear.

The rhythm

of metres chosen

is

is very poor. Although the arrangement one with a pleasant lilt to it, the poet fails to

keep any regularity of rhythm. In the first stanza, the first line and the fifth, the last line in the second, the last of the third and the first in the fourth only read comfortably by a difficult elision or an accent on the wrong syllable. For example, to attend has to be read t'attend \ The rhetorical questions are unfortunate in this light piece. The heaviness of the dismal, fatalistic last verse resembles a man of light build with a club '

'

'

foot.

Here, however,

is

a different complaint

:

The versification is correct, and flows with a gentle the sense stresses coinciding with metrical ones not in precisely the same pattern in every stanza but near enough to be The last stanza, too, (if counted on the fingers) reveals a tiring. I

3*63-

lilt,

derangement of metre.

These opinions we may trace to a presupposition which we have seen in action before. That misunderstanding of metre which derives from the application of external measures. But another group of complaints against the movement of the poem must be noticed. These show an altogether superior understanding of rhythm and a much better applied But they are perhaps too evidently sensibility. motived by a violent negative reaction to the supposed stock sanctimoniousness of the poem. 13-64 (continuing 13*5). I had come to hope, during the first three progressive spasms that the inane zigzag of her staggering would take her from me, as we passed, on a receding tack, but the monstrous accosting lurch towards me of verse 4 completed,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

172

they say, my discomfiture, and my first instinct was to hurry off. This lurch, however, jerked to my notice not close-up the ludicrous merely pomposity of the portent, but that this pompous moral go-getting was spavined, also, by a peculiar structural disjointedness, as well as by a tendency, as it were, to mark a sort of muddy time, whether in bogged and sluggish redundance (as in lines 3 of verses i and 4),,or in a sort of awe-struck loyalty to the sanctimonious clichds in lines 3 and 6 of verse 2. These and other things, such as the peculiarly desperate staggering to the support in the last half of verse 4 of the rhymes, here hectically as

'

'

pitched like camp-stools, at the last moment, to catch their tottering burden such phenomena tempted me, I must confess, to linger, however distastefully, with " the case ". I thus observed that in there was another, more typical, close to the linear spasm this case the patient would accompany the more normal attainment of adequate stasis by a sort of repetitive caw which I again took to be intended for rhyme. I could not, however, be certain whether such apparently nuclear utterance was the cause of a process or the excuse for it. ;

'

'

The

justice of these strictures entirely depends upon the sense of the lines picked out for

I believe,

reproof, and our view of this is, of course, inseparable from our interpretation of the whole poem. Given the last writer's reading of the sense of the poem, and

given his emotional response to the sense, as he takes It is as it, then his reading of its sound follows. observed as it is subtly surprisingly expressed. The of the interconnection of form and content question in poetry is here delicately illuminated and no better occasion could be imagined for insisting once more upon the meet subordination of means to ends. To come down to detail. First as to the bogged ;

*

'

and sluggish redundance of No more she breathes, nor

feels,

nor

stirs.

Another reader agrees. *

No more

we

'

she breathes we are told, and most surprised to hear that she nor feels nor stirs 13-65.

'

are truly

'

!

But poetry does not aim at conciseness if there is anything to be gained by expansion. The poet might

POEM

XIII

173

reply that he was not aiming at surprise, but at its opposite, at making more obvious what is obvious already. More noticeably still with To find her failings, faults and errors.

The alleged redundance has the effect of turning these things into a list, a catalogue an effect which, in view of the lines which* precede it, is hardly fair ground of complaint against the poet. As to the sanctimonious cliches of verse 2, if there are no such things here and so no awe-struck loyalty to them, the complaint against the verses as marking a sort of muddy time lapses, supposing there to be some other warrant for the slowness of movement. And perhaps there may be. This second verse is discussing the motive which prompted the Was it an strange disposal of the slaves' bodies. a more or mundane and impulse extraordinary ignoble motive ? So far from being a piece of impudent ' this world of ours sentimentality ', the phrase makes a necessary point ; and, if the great mystery Was what Christian charity ? is solved, the very strangeness of this possible instance justifies the epithets of the last line of this verse. Yet other complaints concerned the word rude which is, indeed, the key to the tone of the poem. '

'

'

'

'

'

*

'

'

1

*

'

13-7. Surely an awfully frivolous, finicky word in the presence " What a rude of death ? It seems to be used in the sense of " not in the much less offensive sense of rough or violent. man !

13-71. Like a scurrilous controversialist the writer arbitrarily attributes to his imaginary interlocutor a despicable intention and then rails at him for it. One can see, without consulting the

Book

to

which the writer

refers, that

he

is

a conceited, con-

temptible prig. 13-72. At times, also, the banality of the wording is ludicrous, reminiscent of an elderly maiden lady shaking a mittened hand in The rude question we have asked '. remonstration '

13-73.

The winsome

we have asked

')

'

personal touches (e.g., the rude question strongly suggest Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

I

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

74

Some of these associations we can safely set aside as just the personal misfortune of the individuals have to ask what the tone of the they distress.

We

'

*

poem at this point is and what the word rude does It was very generally assumed that to the tone.

poem is solemn the treatment and too, many readers made it as

since the subject of the

must be solemn

serious as they could. Not unnaturally their results often displeased them. 13-8. If the poem tends to check the reader from making speculations

on other peoples

lives then

however does not seem quiets a man's interest in

to

do

it

The poem

has some value.

this,

but rather stimulates than

the private deeds of other people. The reason for this is that the poet lays too little stress on the results of the enquiry. This form of stimulation to the mind can do it no good and may do it harm. The poem is therefore bad.

This seems perfectly to express a possible way of

reading the poem. A reading whose solemnity fully merits all the adjectives that other readers found to fling against

it.

Sanctimonious, didactic, pompous,

portentous, priggish, seem, indeed, if the poem is looked at in this light, hardly too strong. Only one reader attempted to state the issue between this view of the poem and another view by which it would escape these charges. And he so over-states his case that he discredits 13-9. I

am

it.

two minds as to the intention of this poem. which it is written is serious, if we are meant to

in

If the mood in take the situation in profound meditation closing in self-abasing remorse, then the whole thing is clearly vicious and preposterous. The idea of an eternity spent in turning up the files of other

people's sins or crouching to cry peccavi for our own is either amusing or disgusting or both. But if the last three lines are a sudden impish whirl on the complacent moral speculation of the first three stanzas the whole is a very delightful little whimsy. " " It must be the latter a rude question very impertinent indeed. And if the latter the manner is perfect with its echoing parody of similar but serious poems. *

'

Yet on the turning-point of the word rude he seems possibly to be right. For if, to state the middle

POEM view more

fairly,

XIII

the poet

is

175

not trying to be im-

pressive, to inflate the reader with swelling sentiments and a gaseous moral,' but to keep the poem cool and sober, he does so by bringing back the con*

versational, the social tone

would begin

;

'

rude

'

If this interpretation of

this process. ' *

and the word

simply an acknowledgement convention, not in the least a Whether the buried lady were proud or rebuke. humble, this questioning of her motives in her living Her presence would have had the same effect. cheeks would have coloured with resentment or with modesty. And in both cases the questioning would have been an impertinence, a rudeness, in the

poem

is right,

rude

is

of the social

The word belongs to the the simplest social sense. texture of the poet's meditation and is not aimed at It is the anyone, not even at the poet himself. admission of a fact, not an attack upon anyone, or anything.

On last

this theory of the structure of the poem the would be in the same tone. Not a grim

verse

warning, or an exhortation, but a cheerful realisation of the situation, not in the least evangelical, not at all like a conventional sermon, but on the contrary extremely urbane, rather witty, and slightly whimIf it were said that it has more of a chuckle sical. in it than a groan or a threat, that might be overstating this view, but, even so, this would be a less distortion than that which evoked the following': 13*64). To close, as I began, on a 13-91 (continuation of 13*5, " " poem is a storm brewed amongst suggestion of invective. This sodden Typhoo-tips, in the dregs of a cracked Woolworth

incorrigible moral charlatan, simpleton, or bore, immune from self-criticism through the public acceptance, nem con.> of a piously truistic diffuseness which easily flatters and cozens the naifly self-regarding morale of a society in part too simple, in part intolerably smug.

tea-cup,

who

by an

has become

We may

grant that,

if

the

demands of

13-8 repre-

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

76

might be all this. But another reading possible, one by which the poem becomes a very unusual kind of thing that it would be a pity to miss. That so few read it in this way is not surprising, for sent

its

aim,

it

is

if

there

is

any character in poetry that modern

who derive their ideas of it known poems
rather from the best Shelley and Keats or from our contemporaries, than from Dry den, Pope or Cowper are unprepared to encounter, it is this social, urbane, highly cultivated, self-confident, temperate and easy kind of humour. readers-

PART THREE ANALYSIS Let us go closer

M

to the fire

and see what we are saying.' (The Bubis of Fernando Po.)

CHAPTER

I

THE FOUR KINDS OF MEANING From whence it happens, that they which trust to books, do as they that cast up many little summs into a greater, without considering whether those little summes were rightly cast up or not and at last finding the errour visible, and not mistrusting their first grounds, know not which way to cleere themselves but spend time in flutteras birds that entring by the chimney, and ing over their bookes finding themselves inclosed in a chamber, flutter at the false light of a glasse window, for want of wit to consider which way they came in. Leviathan. ;

;

;

AFTER so much documentation the reader will be in a mood to welcome an attempt to point some morals, to set up some guiding threads by which the labyrinth

we have perambulated may be made less bewildering. Otherwise we might be left with a mere defeatist acquiescence in quot homines tot sententice as the sovereign critical principle, a hundred verdicts from a hundred readers as the sole fruit of our endeavours a result at the very opposite pole from my hope and intention. But before it can be pointed, the moral has first to be disengaged, and the guiding threads cannot be set up without some preliminary

The analyses and distinctions that engineering. follow are only those that are indispensable if the conclusions to which they lead are to be understood with reasonable precision or recommended with confidence. The proper procedure will be to now that the material has closely

inquire

more

passed before us into the ten difficulties listed towards the end of Part I, taking them one by one in the order there adopted. Reasons for this order will make them179

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

i8o

selves

as

plain

we

proceed, for these

difficulties

depend one upon another like a cluster of monkeys. Yet in spite of this complicated interdependence it is not very difficult to see where we must begin.

The

original difficulty of all reading, the problem of making out the meaning, is our obvious starting-point.

The answers to those apparently simple questions What are we doing when What is a meaning ? make it out ? What is it we are we endeavour to :

'

*

'

'

'

'

making out ? are the master-keys to all the problems of criticism. If we can make use of them the locked chambers and corridors of the theory of poetry open to us, and a new and impressive order, is discovered even in the most erratic twists of the protocols. Doubtless there are some who, by a natural disto poetry Open Sesame pensation, acquire the without labour, but, for the rest of us, certain general reflections we are not often encouraged to undertake can spare us time and fruitless trouble. The all-important fact for the study of literature or any other mode of communication is that there Whether we know are several kinds of meaning. we are all and intend it or not, jugglers when we converse, keeping the billiard-balls in the air while we balance the cue on our nose. Whether we are 1 active, as in speech or writing, or passive, as readers or listeners, the Total Meaning we are engaged with is, almost always, a bland, a combination of several contributory meanings of different types. '

'

!

r

and pre-eminently language as it is used has not one but several tasks to perform simultaneously, and we shall misconceive most of the difficulties of criticism unless we understand this point and take note of the differences between

Language

in poetry

*

1 Relatively, or technically, passive' only; a fact that our protocols will help us not to forget. The reception (or interpretation) of a meaning is an activity, which may go astray ; in fact, there is always some degree of loss and distortion in transmission. For an * account of understanding see Part IV, 13. '

THE FOUR KINDS OF MEANING

181

For our purposes here a division these functions. into four types of function, four kinds of meaning, will suffice.

most human utterances and nearly be profitably regarded from four points of view. Four aspects can be easily distinguished. Let us callHhem Sense, Feeling, Tone, and Intention. It is plain that

all

articulate speech can

1.

Sense.

We

speak

to

say something, and

expect something

to

be

said.

when we

We

listen

we

use words to

our hearers' attention upon some state of affairs, to present to them some items for consideration and to excite in them some thoughts about direct

these items. 2. Feeling.

1

But we these items,

We

also, as a rule, have some feelings about about the state of affairs we are referring

have an attitude towards it, some special direction, bias, or accentuation of interest towards it, some personal flavour or colouring of feeling ; and we use language to express these feelings, this

to.

Equally, when we listen we or it seems inextricably wrongly pick up, rightly we what receive and this whether the of part be conscious of himself his feelings towards speaker about or I he is not. w hat am, of course, talking here describing the normal situation, my reader will be able without difficulty to think of exceptional cases (mathematics, for example) where no feeling

nuance of

interest.

it

;

;

r

enters. 1

Under

group for convenience the whole conativeemotions, emotional attitudes, the will, desire, Feeling is shorthand for any or pleasure-unpleasure, and the rest. all of this. *

Feeling'

aftective aspect of

I

life

(

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

182

3.

Tone.

Furthermore, the speaker has ordinarily an attitude He chooses or arranges his words his as audience varies, in automatic or differently to his listener.

The deliberate recognition of his relation to them. tone of his utterance reflects his awareness of this relation, his sense of how he stands towards those he is addressing. Again the exceptional case of in which the speaker or instances dissimulation, an he is not consciously reveals attitude unwittingly desirous of expressing, will come to mind. 4. Intention^

Finally, apart from what he says (Sense), his attitude to what he is talking about (Feeling), and his attitude to his listener (Tone), there is the speaker's intention, his aim, conscious or unconscious,

the effect he

is endeavouring to promote. Ordinarily he speaks for a purpose, and his purpose modifies his speech. The understanding of it is part of the whole business of apprehending his meaning. Unless we know what he is trying to do, we can hardly estimate the measure of his success. Yet the number of readers who omit such considerations might make a faint-hearted writer despair. Sometimes, of course, he will purpose no more than to state his thoughts (i), or to express his feelings about what he is

thinking

of, e.g.

Hurrah

!

Damn!

(2),

or to express

his attitude to his listener (3). With this last case we pass into the realm of endearments and abuse.

Frequently his intention operates through and combination of the other functions. Yet it has effects not reducible to their effects. It may govern the stress laid upon points in an argusatisfies itself in a

1 This function plainly is not on all fours with the others. See 16 and Appendix A, where a further discussion of these Part IV, four functions is attempted.

THE FOUR KINDS OF MEANING

ment

183

for example, shape the arrangement, such phrases as

call attention to itself in '

and even '

for con-

'

or lest it be supposed '. It controls the plot in the largest sense of the word, and is at work whenever the author is hiding his hand '. And it has especial importance in dramatic and semi-dramatic literature. Thus the influence of his intention upon the language he uses is additional to, and separable from, the other three influences, and its effects can profitably be considered apart.

trast's

sake '

'

*

We

shall find in the protocols instances, in plenty,

on the part of one or other of these a functions. Sometimes all four fail together reader garbles the sense, distorts the feeling, mistakes the tone and disregards the intention ; and often a partial collapse of one function entails aberrations in the others. The possibilities of human misunderof failure

;

standing make up indeed a formidable subject for study, but something more can be done to elucidate it than has yet been attempted. Whatever else we do by the light of nature it would be folly to may maintain that we should read by it. But before turning back to scrutinise our protocols some further explanation of these functions will be in place. If we survey our uses of language as a whole, it is clear that at times, now one now another of the functions may become predominant. It will make the possible situations clearer if we briefly review

A

certain typical forms of composition. man writing a scientific treatise, for example, will put the Sense of what he has to say first, he will subordinate his

Feelings about his subject or about other views upon it and be careful not to let them interfere to distort

argument or to suggest bias. His Tone will be him by academic convention he will, if he is wise, indicate respect for his readers and a moderate anxiety to be understood accurately and

his

settled for

;

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

84

win acceptance

to if

his Intention, as

for his remarks. it

shows

itself in

It will be well the work, be on

the whole confined to the clearest and most adequate statement of what he has to say (Function i, Sense). But, if the circumstances warrant it, further relevant aims an intention to reorientate opinion, to direct attention to new aspects,/ or to encourage or discourage certain methods of work or ways of approach the acceptare obviously fitting. Irrelevant aims ance of the work as a thesis for a Ph.D., for example,

come

in a different category. now a writer engaged

Consider

upon popularising of the results and hypotheses of science. The principles governing his language are not nearly so simple, for the furtherance of his intention will properly and inevitably interfere with the other functions. In the first place, precise and adequate statement of the sense may have to be sacrificed, to some degree, in the interests of general intelligibility. Simplifications and distortions may be necessary if the reader is to follow '. Secondly, a much more lively exhibition of feelings on the part of the author some

'

towards his subject-matter is usually appropriate desirable, in order to awaken and encourage the reader's interest. Thirdly, more variety of tone will be called for jokes and humorous illustrations, for

and

;

example, are admissible, and perhaps a certain amount of cajolery. With this increased liberty, tact, the subjective counterpart of tone, will be human relation between the urgently required.

A

expert and

his lay audience

the task, as

many

specialists

These other functions

easy.

must be created, and have discovered, is not will interfere

still

more

with strict accuracy of statement and if the subject has a tendency ', if political, ethical or theological ;

'

implications are at all prominent, the intention of the will have further opportunities to intervene.

work

THE FOUR KINDS OF MEANING

185

This leads us to the obvious instance of political speeches. What rank and precedence shall we assign to the four language functions if we analyse public utterances made in the midst of a General Election ?

Function

4, the furtherance of intentions (of all of grades worthiness) is unmistakably predominant. Its instruments are Function 2, the expression of feelings about causes, policies, leaders and opponents, and Function 3, the establishment of favourable relations with the audience (' the great heart of the

people

').

Recognising

this,

ought we to be pained

or surprised that Function i, the presentation of facts (or of objects of thought to be regarded as But facts are regarded), is equally subordinated ? l further consideration of this situation would lead us into a topic that must be examined later, that of Sincerity, a word with several important meanings.

(See Chapter VII.) In conversation, perhaps, we get the clearest examples of these shifts of function, the normal verbal apparatus of one function being taken over by another. Intention, we have seen, may comso, on occasion, may pletely subjugate the others Feeling or Tone express themselves through Sense, translating themselves into explicit statements about ;

and attitudes towards things and people sometimes belied by their very form and manner. Diplomatic formulae are often good feelings

statements

examples, together with much of the social language 2 Thank (Malinowski's phatic communion '), the so much and Pleased to meet es, you very you s, '

c

'

1

The

'

'

of course, the implication that the speaker not only as powerful arguments but as facts. Belief here has to do with Function 2, and, as such examples suggest, is also a word with several senses, at least as many as attach Some separation and to the somewhat analogous word 'love'. ventilation of them, beyond that attempted in Ch. VII below, is very desirable, and I hope to explore this subject in a future work. ticklish point ' facts'

is,

believes in the 1

2

See The Meaning of Meaning, Supplement

I,

iv.

186

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

that help us to live (But see Appendix A,

Under this head,

amicably with one another.

Note

too,

i.)

may be put the

psychological the introspective expatiations that have recently flourished so much in fiction as well as in sophisticated conversation. Does it indicate a confusion or a tenuousness t in our feelings that we should now find ourselves so ready to make stateanalyses,

them into disquisitions, of expressing them in more direct and Or is this phenomenon simply ways ?

ments about them, instead natural

to translate

another result of the increased study of psychology ? It would be rash to decide as yet. Certainly some a charge of to themselves open psychologists lay that of so dealt with themselves having emptiness, about. within them to talk have little left they Putting it into words,' if the w ords are those of a *

r

psychological textbook, is a process which may well be damaging to the feelings. I shall be lucky if my reader does not murmur de te fabula at this point. But Feeling (and sometimes Tone) may take charge of and operate through Sense in another fashion, one more constantly relevant in poetry. (If indeed the shift just dealt with above might not be better described as Sense interfering with and

dominating Feeling and Tone.) When this happens, the statements which appear in the poetry are there for the sake of their effects upon feelings, not for their own sake. Hence to challenge their truth or to question whether they

deserve serious attention as statements claiming truth, is to mistake their function. The point is that many, if not most, of the statements in poetry are there as a means to the manipulation * and expression of feelings and attitudes, not as contributions to any body of doctrine of any type whatever. With 1 I am not assuming that the poet is conscious of any distinction between his means and his ends. (Compare foot-note on p. 190.)

THE FOUR KINDS OF MEANING

187

narrative poetry there is little danger of any mistake arising, but with philosophical or meditative poetry there is great danger of a confusion which may have two sets of consequences. On the one hand there are very many people who, if they read any poetry at all, try to take all its statements seriously anci find them silly. soul is a ship in full sail/ for example, seems to them a very profitless kind of contribution to psychology. '

l

'

My

This may seem an absurd mistake but, alas it is none the less common. On the other hand there are those who succeed too well, who swallow Beauty !

'

is

truth, truth beauty.

an

.

.

.',

as the quintessence of

aesthetic philosophy, not as the expression of a

certain blend of feelings, and proceed into a complete stalemate of muddle-mindedness as a result of their It is easy to see what those in linguistic naivety.

group miss the losses of the second group, the though accountancy is more complicated, are lamentable. equally temptation to discuss here some further intricacies of this shift of function must be resisted. An overflow into Appendix A, which may serve as a kind of technical workshop for those who agree with me that the matter is important enough to be examined with pains, will be the best solution. I am anxious to illustrate these distinctions from the It protocols before tedium too heavily assails us. will be enough here to note that this subjugation of statement to emotive purposes has innumerable modes. poet may distort his statements he may make statements which have logically nothing to do he may, by with the subject under treatment

the

first

;

A

A

;

;

metaphor and otherwise, present objects for thought which are logically quite irrelevant he may perpetrate ;

logical nonsense, be as

or as silly, logically, as all in the interests of the other to be it is possible functions of his language to express feeling or ;

trivial

188

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

If his adjust tone or further his other intentions. success in these other aims justify him, no reader (of the kind at least to take his meaning as it should be taken) can validly say anything against him. But these indirect devices for expressing feeling through logical irrelevance and nonsense, through statements not to be taken strictly, literally or

seriously, though pre-eminently apparent in poetry, are not peculiar to it. great part of what passes for criticism comes under this head. It is much harder to obtain statements about poetry, than expressions of feelings towards it and towards the author. Very many apparent statements turn out

A

on examination to be only these disguised forms, indirect expressions, of Feeling, Tone and Intention. Dr Bradley's remark that Poetry is a spirit^ and

Dr

Mackail's that it is a continuous substance or energy whose progress is immortal are eminent examples that I have made use of elsewhere, so curious that I need no apology for referring to them again. Remembering them, we may be more ready to apply to the protocols every instrument of interpretation we possess. May we avoid if possible in our own reading of the protocols those errors of misunder-

standing which we are about to watch being committed towards the poems.

CHAPTER

II

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE Que

fait-il ici ? s'y plairait-il ?

penserait-il y plaire

?

RONSARU.

THE possibilities of misunderstanding being fourfold, we shall have four main exits from true interpretation to watch, and we shall have to keep an eye open, too, upon those underground or overhead cross-connections by which a mistake in one function to erratic behaviour in another.

may

lead

We

cannot reasonably expect diagnosis here to be simpler than it is with a troublesome wireless set, or, to take an even closer parallel, than it is in a psychological clinic. Simple cases do occur, but they are rare. To take aberrations in apprehending Sense first those who misread a cool, green house in Poem //, the victims of the King of all our hearts to-day in Poem IX the rain-maker (10-64), and the writer (5-2) who took Poem V to be quite an ingenious way of saying that the artist has made '

'

:

c

'

',

*

'

a cast of a beautiful woman (if we interpret cast charitably), are almost the simplest examples we shall find of unqualified, immediate misunderstanding of the sense. Even these, however, are not perfectly '

'

on other grounds against the poem, misunderstandings of its feeling and tone, certainly helped 2-2 and 2-21 to their mistakes, just as the stock emotive power of King was the strong simple.

Grudges

felt

'

'

contributing factor, mastering for 9-111 all historical probabilities and every indication through style. Mere inattention, or sheer carelessness, may some189

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

9o

but carelessness times be the source of a misreading in reading is the result of distraction, and we can hardly note too firmly that for many readers the metre and the verse-form of poetry is itself a powerful Thus 9-16, who understands that it is distraction. the King that is being toasted on the peak, and 5-3 ;

and

his fellows,

no

less

than

5-2,

may be

regarded

with the commiseration we extend to those trying to do sums in the neighbourhood of a barrel-organ or a brass band.

There is one difference however. All will agree that while delicate intellectual operations are in proBut the band gress brass bands should be silent. more often than not is an essential part of the It can, however, be silenced, if we wish, poetry. while we disentangle and master the sense, and afterwards its co-operation will no longer confuse

us.

A

'

practical

deserves

moral

'

emerges from

more prominence than

this

which

usually receives. in It is that most poetry needs several readings w hich its varied factors may fit themselves together it

r

can be grasped. Readers who claim to dispense with this preliminary study, who think that all good poetry should come home to them in before

it

entirety at a first reading, hardly realise

how

clever

they must be.

But there

is

a subtler point

We

to be noted. poet to express

and a

fine distinction

have allowed above that a good feeling,

further his other aims 1 tricks with his sense. He

adjust tone and to may play all manner of may dissolve its coherence He does so, of course, at to

altogether, if he sees fit. For simplicity's sake, I write as though the poet were conscious of his aims and methods. But very often, of course, he is not. He may be quite unable to explain what he is doing, and I do not intend to imply that he necessarily knows anything about it. This dis1

claimer, which may be repeated, will, I hope, defend me from the charge of so crude a conception of poetic composition. Poets vary immensely in their awareness both of their inner technique and of the precise result they are endeavouring to achieve.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE his peril

;

his other aims

and he must win

must be

really

191

worth while, from the and no close

a certain renunciation

reader but the liberty is certainly his, reader will doubt or deny it. This liberty is the careless reader's excuse and the bad poet's opporAn obscure notion is engendered in the tunity. reader that syntax is somehow less significant in poetry than in prose, and that a kind of guess-work is the intuition likely enough to be christened proper mode of apprehending what a poet may have to say. The modicum of truth in the notion makes In most poetry this danger very hard to deal with. it is the sense is as important as anything else and as on as the subtle, dependent syntax, as quite in prose it is the chief to other instrument poet's aims when it is not itself his aim. His control of our thoughts is ordinarily his chief means to the control of our feelings, and in the immense majority of instances we miss nearly everything of value if ;

*

'

;

;

we misread

his sense.

But to say this and here is the distinction we have to note is not to say that we can wrench the sense free from the poem, screw it down in a prose paraphrase, and then take the doctrine of our prose passage, and the feelings this doctrine excites in us, as the burden of the poem. (See p. 216.) These intuitive twin dangers careless, reading and '

*

'

'

are the Symplegades, prosaic, over-literal reading rocks the between which too many ', justling ventures into poetry are wrecked. Samples of both disasters are frequent enough in the protocols, though Poem /, for example, gave intuitive ', the difference there little chance to the between a poetic and a prosaic reading being on the hardly marked enough to appear. Poem other hand, only allowed intuitive readings. In 2*22, 10-22 and 10-48, however, the effect of a prosaic in 6-3, intuition has all its own reading is clear *

*

'

'

'

'

V

;

,

i

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

92

way, and the 11-33,

*

11-32 and the triumph of the opposite

effect of its incursions in

s as striking as l

tendency is in 12-41. Still keeping to the reader's traffic with the sense as little complicated as may be with other meanings, mention may perhaps be expected of ignorance, lack of acquaintance with thejtsense of unfamiliar words, the absence of the necessary intellectual contexts, defective scholarship, in short, as a source of error. Possibly through my choice of poems (Poem did, however, bring out some odd examples) and

HI

perhaps through the advanced educational standing of the protocol- writers, this obstacle to understanding did not much appear. Far more serious were certain

how

the sense of words in (12-41 may have struck the Obstacles to understanding, these, much less combated by teachers and much more troublesome than any mere deficiency of information. For, after all, dictionaries and encyclopaedias stand ready to fill up most gaps in our knowledge, but an inability to seize the poetical sense of words is not so easily remedied. Some further instances of these misconceptions will make their nature plainer. Compare the literalism of 12-4, chemistry of 12-41 with the

misconceptions as to poetry is to be taken. reader as an example.)

'

10-6, 8-15 and 7-38. survive for readers who

'

Not many metaphors will make such a deadly demand

as do these. Less acute same attitude to language appear frequently elsewhere, and the prevalence of this literalism, under present-day conditions of

for

scientific

manifestations

education,

I

is

precision of the

greater than the cultivated reader will

1 I must apologise for the manual labour such references impose. have tried to space these bouts of leaf-turning as conveniently as

The alternative of reprinting be, with long intervals of repose. the protocols referred to proved to have counter-disadvantages. To mention one only the cost of the book would have been considerably increased.

may all

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

193

imagine. How are we to explain to those who see nothing in poetical language but a tissue of ridiculous fancies ', ignorant conceits exaggerations, childish and absurd symbolisations in what way its sense is to be read ? '

would be easy

It

of

metaphor,

to

expound

hyperbole

..and

a grammatical theory figurative language, 'as if s, 'is like s, '

'

pointing out the suppressed and the rest of the locutions that may be introduced to turn poetry into logically respectable prose. But we should (as textbooks enough have shown us) be very little advanced towards persuading one of these

hard-headed fellows that poets are worth reading. A better plan, perhaps, will be to set over against these examples of literalism some specimens of the opposing fault 5-3 and 5-32 will do as well as any others and then consider, in the frame supplied by this contrast, some instances of a middle kind when

both a legitimate demand for accuracy and precision and a recognition of the proper liberties and powers of figurative language are combined. It may then be possible to make clearer what the really interesting

and difficult problems of figurative language are. Let us therefore examine the hyperbole of the seaharp in Poem 9-77.

We

IX

shall, I

in the light of comments 9-71 to hope, agree that these comments

rightly point out a number of irremediable incoherences in the thought of the passage. The sense has at least four glaring flaws, if we subject it to a logical Moreover, these flaws or internal inconanalysis. sistencies are unconnected with one another they do not derive from some one central liberty taken by the poet, but each is a separate crack in the fabric of the sense. Setting aside for a while the question of the suitability and fittingness of the figure as a whole, let us survey its internal structure, trying the while to find every justification we can. Taking the objections in the order in which they ;

N

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

194

we have first the difficulty the sea may sound like an organ, but it never has the sound of a harp '. I think we shall be forced to admit that the more closely we compare these sounds the less justification shall we find in their But this, by itself, is not a very heavy similarity. appear in the protocols, '

that

A

very slight similarity might be sufficient objection. as a means of transition to something valuable.

We

ought never to forget, though we constantly do, that It is in poetry the means are justified by the end. when the end disappoints us that we can usefully turn to look into the means to see whether or not the kind of use the poet has made of them helps to

why his end is unsatisfactory. Next comes the objection that each string of this harp is made up of the lightning of Spring nights '. Here the poet has undoubtedly abrogated both fact and possibility. He has broken the coherence of his sense. But to say this, of course, settles nothing explain '

about the value of the passage. I have urged above that nonsense is admissible in poetry, if the effect We have to consider what the effect is. justifies it. The effect the poet proposed is clear an exhilarating

awakening of wonder and a fusion of the sea, most moving lightning and spring, those three manifestations of Nature ', as some of the other protocols pointed out. But an external influence so compelling that it may fairly be supposed to have overridden both thought and intention in the poet is unmistakable, and we shall not fully understand c

we consider it. As 9-94 pointed is the Swinburne-cum-water ', a sadly out, style too appropriate admixture. Not only the diction (sea, harp, mirthful, string, woven, lightning, nights, and the subject.), Spring, Dawn, glad, grave matter, but the peculiar elastic springy bound of the movement, and the exalted tone, are so much

this passage unless *

.

.

Swinburne's that they amount

less to

an echo than

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

195

A

to a momentary obsession. poet so dominated for an instant by his devotion to another, submitting himself, as it were, to an inspiration from without, may well be likely to overlook what is happening to his sense.

The

general problem of all responses made to influences may here be considered. reader's liking for this passage might often be affected

A

indirect

by his acquaintance with Swinburne's descriptions and sea-metaphors. Who fished the murex up ? '

'

a pertinent question. The point constantly recurs are estimating the enthusiasm of readers whose knowledge of poetry is not wide. Have they, is

when we

or have they not, undergone the original influence ? It would be interesting to compare, by means of such a passage as this, a group of readers before and after they had first spent an evening over Songs of the Springtides or Atalanta in Calydon. But however widely they read in Swinburne I do not believe they would ever find him turning his sea into lightning not even in the interests of Victor Hugo or Shelley. He is full of slight abrogations of sense. He is indeed a very suitable poet in whom to study the subordination, distortion and occultation of sense through the domination of But the lapses of sense are very verbal feeling. so flagrant, so undisguised, that the reader, rarely swept by on the swift and splendid roundabout of the verse, is forced to notice them. And, more often than not, when the reader thinks he has detected some nonsense, or some inconsequent distortion of sense, he will, if he examines it, be troubled to find The celebrated opening of it is he who is at fault. the Second Chorus of Atalanta in Calydon is a very >

representative example

:

Before the beginning of years There came to the making of Time, with a gift of tears ; Grief, with a glass that ran.

man

1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

96

We may

think, at

first,

that the tears should belong

and the hour-glass to Time, and that the emblems are exchanged only for formal reasons, or to Grief

to avoid a possible triteness ; but a littje reflection will show that several things are added by the transposition. With the third line compare the verse

in

A

Forsaken Garden, which begins Heart handfast in heart

and with the fourth

We

line

compare

are not sure of sorrow

from The Garden of Prosperine. Some connection, though it may be tenuous or extravagant, can almost always be found in Swinburne, perhaps because of his predilection for the abstract and the vague. Vague thoughts articulate one with another more readily than precise thoughts. have still to decide about the effect of the too audacious physics of Poem IX. Do they not destroy

We

the imaginative reality

power over our

feelings

that is to say, the proper of both the sea and the

lightning, to say nothing of the harp and (presumably) the harper 1 that are in the background of our con-

We can perhaps here extract another sciousness ? moral for our general critical guidance. It might Mixtures in metaphors (and in take this form. other

figures)

well enough when the mixed preserve their efficacy,

may work

ingredients that are

when such a fusion is invited that the several parts cancel one another. That a metaphor the mind is ambiis mixed is nothing against it ; to handle the most extraordinary dextrous enough but not

combinations if the inducement is sufficient. But the mixture must not be of the fire and water type which unfortunately is exactly what we have here. 1 It is not unfair, I think, to list' this missing harper among the blemishes of the passage, for the sea here has somehow to play itself. Cf. Swinburne, The Garden of Cymodoce, Str. 8, 1. 3 Yea surely the sea as a harper laid hand on the shore as a lyre. :

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

197

Objection number three, given in 9-75, that strings not woven, will illustrate this moral. The

are 4

higher potency in releasing vague emotion ', that woven in a proper context certainly possesses, is damped and cancelled as it blends with the sea and lightning ingredients, nor is there anything else in the passage that it can seek help from in preserving

an independent existence.

The serious.

fourth objection, the time difficulty, Personification, as

we

is

less

shall shortly see in

connection with another passage, is a device which allows a poet to do almost anything he pleases with impunity provided, of course, as usual, he has anything worth doing in hand. The protocol writers, 9.76 and 9-77, rely too confidently upon common sense, a useful servant to the critic but not to be entrusted with much responsibility. Surely we need not fly very high in imagination, not so high as an aeroplane may fly, to see night and dawn very plainly present contemporaneously in the cosmic scene. Or, with less imaginative effort, we may reasonably urge that in Spring the usual separation But will of night and day may be said to lapse. these justifications really help the poem ? Dawn, we may still feel, has really no sufficient business in the poem. She is there as a pictorial adjunct whether deserving of the opinion of 9-44 or of 9-421, I must leave it to the reader to decide, for the defect of syntax upon which 9*421 relies would be allowed, if the result were a sufficient compensation. But in her capacity as a listener she adds nothing. Dawn has certainly to listen to plenty of queer noises, and her presence does not necessarily glorify the song that the poet has in his mind. This has brought us to the larger question of the suitability of the whole figure, how well it serves the intention of the sonnet upon which some very suffice. This intention is neither remarks may simple ;

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

I 98

recondite nor subtle

being the expression of a rather

vague and generalised enthusiasm, the creation of Nor is any great precision an exalted feeling. necessary in the feeling evoked. Any lofty, expansive appreciative feeling will do. This being so, a certain negligence about the means employed is not unfitting. Qu'importe la boisson pourvu qu'on ait Vivresse ', might be our conclusion but for one The enjoyment and understanding consideration.

and

'

'

'

of the best poetry requires a sensitiveness and discrimination with words, a nicety, imaginativeness and deftness in taking their sense which will prevent Poem IX, in its original form, from receiving the approval of the most attentive readers. To set aside this fine capacity too often may be a damaging indulgence. have been watching a group of readers, with, on the whole, a well-balanced tendency to literalism, making their points against a passage of figurative language whose liberties and inconsistencies were of a kind that might excuse the dislike which less well-balanced literalists sometimes feel for all the figurative language of poetry. Let us turn now to another group of exhibits, where rationality is rather more in danger of tripping itself up. Can the metaphors of the first two lines of Poem X, and those of the last two verses, defend themselves from the attacks of 10-61 and 10-62 ? Is their literalism of the kind exemplified in the chemistry of 12-41 (which would be fatal to nearly all poetry) ; or is it the legitimate variety, aimed at the abuse, not at the And if the latter, is it use, of figurative language ? does the rightly aimed, poem deserve it, or have we here only instances of misreading ? First we may reconsider 10-6, with a view to agreeing, if we can, that the objection there lodged would really condemn a great deal of good poetry, if it could be sustained. It is a general objection to Personification and, as such, worth examining irre-

We

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

199

Animism ', as spective of the merits of Poem X. this writer calls it, the projection of human activity into inanimate objects of thought, has been expressly (

pointed to by innumerable critics as one of the most frequent resources of poetry. Coleridge, for example, declared that images (by which he meant figurative become a proof of original genius language) '

'

'

.

when

a

human and

intellectual life is

.

.

transferred to

And he instanced poet's own spirit '. that particular excellence ... in which Shake-

them from the *

it

as

speare even in his earliest, as in his latest, works It is by this, that he stiU surpasses all other poets. a and a gives passion to the objects which he dignity Unaided presents. by any previous excitement, they burst upon us at once in life and power.' (Biographia Liter aria, Ch. XV). There are indeed very good reasons why poetry should personify. The structure of language and the pronouns, verbs and adjectiveg

come most

naturally to us, constantly invite iJS to personify. And, to go deeper, our attitudfify feelings, and ways of thought about inanimate things that

moulded upon and grow out of our ways $ thinking and feeling about one another. Our minds

are

have developed with other human beings always ft we are shapeo, the foreground of our consciousness our and dealings with other through mentally, by It is so in the history of the race and in the people. No wonder then if what we individual biography. 1 ;

1 Compare Wordsworth on the Babe and his Mother.

effects of the tie

between the infant

in one dear Presence, there exists which irradiates and exalts Objects through widest intercourse of sense No outcast he, bewildered and depressed

For him,

A

virtue

Along

The

his infant veins are interfused

and the filial bond him with the world. The Prelude, Bk, II. One result is that for some seven years all objects are regarded more as though they were alive than otherwise. The concept of 'the inanimate' develops late. Cf. Piaget, The Language and Thought of gravitation

Of nature

the Child.

that connect

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

have

to

presents sense is

human

about

inanimate objects constantly a form only appropriate, if strict sole consideration, to persons and

say

itself in

our

relations.

Often, of course, there is no necessity for personification so far as sense is concerned, and we use it only to express feelings towards whatever we are

speaking about (Function sonification allows us to clearly

what would be extraordinarily

say without a

Poem

it.

good example

On '

'

slant

X

difficult

to

in its third verse provides

:

wall and

And

Both

But sometimes persay compendiously and

2).

sidle

and

window slant your hand up the garden stair.

*

'

sidle

were occasion for divided

opinions, as the protocols show ; those readers who took their sense accurately being pleased. To get

paraphrase with the personinot an easy matter. In fact the task almost calls for geometrical diagrams and But the bending of the cloud illustrative sketches. shadow as it passes from the surface of the earth to the upright plane of wall and window is given at once by slant your hand'. The changed angle of incidence thus noted adds a solidness and particularity to the effect described, and since vividness is a large part of the intention of the poem at this point, the means employed should not be overlooked. Of course, if hand be read to mean a part of the cloud itself and not as the extremity of a limb of the cloud's shadow, the image becomes merely silly, and some of the condemnations in the protocols are explained if not excused. it So, too, with sidle gives the accidental, oblique of movement of the shadow, and gives it the quality this sense into a prose

fication cut out

is

*

'

'

'

'

'

'

;

in a single word by means of a single particularising Condensation and economy are so often scene.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE in order that emotional impulses

necessary in poetry shall not dissipate

that

themselves

are worth study.

Personification,

means

all

to

it

for the reasons

perhaps the most important of them. But there are degrees of personification it can range from a mere momentary loan of a single human suggested above,

is

;

attribute or impulse to the projection of a complete spiritual being. Nothing recoils more heavily upon As a poet than a too ample unjustified projection. with some other over-facile means of creating an

immediate effect, it destroys the poetic sanction, and seems to empty the poet in the measure that the poem is overloaded. In Poem XII the dreams, the desires, the prognostications, the brooding and the wise imaginations of the clouds' mantles may seem in the end to have just this defect. Yet to decide whether a personification is or is not overdone is a matter of very delicate reading. In 10-62, however, we have a complaint that the personification is not '

carried far

enough and

a useful

'

peg for some further

'

morals '. In the first place, what another poet (here Shelley) did in another poem is never in itself a good ground for deciding that this poet by doing differently has done wrong. This over-simple form of comparative critical

'

in fact we hardly ever is far too common see any other kind. Shelley's intent and this poet's intent differ, the means they use inevitably differ too. It is hardly possible to find instances so closely parallel that divergence of method will prove one have always poem better or worse than another. to undertake a more subtle inquiry into the ends sought or attained. It would be an excellent thing

criticism

'

;

We

this type of critical argument could be labelled and recognised as fallacious. It is really only one of the if

more pretentious forms of recipe-hunting. This is not to say that comparisons are not invaluable in

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

202

but we must know what it is we are comand how the relevant conditions are also to be paring compared. criticism,

To come closer to this example, 10-62 has not asked himself whether so shifting and various a thing as this cloud can be given a definite character, whether a changeful tricksiness is not all the personality it can bear. A clear conception of the personality of the cloud would have hopelessly overburdened the poem. The poet indeed has been careful of this '

'

very danger. When after five verses of antics ', chiefly concerned with the cloud-shadows, he turns to the cloud itself in its afternoon dissolution, he cuts the personification down, mixing his metaphors to '

O frail steel incoherence, and finally, tissue of the sun ', depersonifying it altogether in mockery of its total loss of character. This recognition that the personification was originally an extravagance makes the poem definitely one of Fancy rather than Imagination to use the Wordsworthian division but it rather increases than diminishes the And its descriptive effects gained by the device. *

reflect

its

peculiar felicity in exactly expressing a certain shade of feeling towards the cloud deserves to be remarked. Probably 10-62 expected some different feeling to be expressed. But 10-61, who also quarrels with the opening metaphor, seems to miss the descriptive In view sense of the poem for some other reason. of the effect of miraculous stockade ', no less than of limn ', shoot and sidle puzzle ', paint ', other one is readers, upon tempted to suspect some 1 of visual Or perhaps he was incapacity memory. one of those who supposed that a cloud rather than its shadow was being described. Pencil ', if we take it to mean produce the effects of pencilling (such are the exigences of paraphrasing) hardly mixes the metaphor in any serious fashion. Its '

*

'

'

'

'

*

'

'

'

'

1

Not

of visualisation, however.

See Ch.

V

and Appendix A.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

203

suggestion both of the hard, clear outline of the cloud's edge and of the shadowy variations in the lighting of its inner recesses, is not in the least or by the sky-scraper hoist cancelled by climb of miraculous stockade \ Incidentally, would it be capricious to meet the many objections to the sounds in these words (10-42 and 10-43) with the remark that they reflect the astonishment that a realisation of the height of some clouds does Miraculous stockade seems, at least, to evoke ? have clear advantages over the tremendous triumph of tall towers in point of economy and vividness. Puzzle has accuracy also on its side against these cavillers. Anyone who watches the restless shift of cattle as the shadow suddenly darkens their world But for them will endorse the poet's observation. if the cows never noticed any change of light the word would still be justified through its evocative c

'

*

'

c

*

'

'

'

'

'

and men. Similarly with paint as a and fresh work notation shoot rapid they of not very unfamiliar effects, and there is no reason

effect

upon

*

'

;

whom

to suppose that those readers for they are successful are in any way damaging or relaxing their sensibility. With this

we come back to the point at which we Poem IX. We can sum up this discussion of some instances of figurative language as follows All

left

:

enreading. respectable poetry to its literal sense the to attention point, courages up to be detected by the reader's discretion, at which liberty can serve the aim of the poem better than It fidelity to fact or strict coherence among fictions. remember that its aims are varied asks the reader to invites

close

It

and not always what he unreflectingly expects. He has to refrain from applying his own external standards. The chemist must not require that the poet write like a chemist, nor the moralist, nor the man of affairs, nor the logician, nor the professor,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

20 4

The whole trouble of that he write as they would. 1 of literalism is that the reader forgets that the aim the

poem comes

first,

and

is

the sole justification of

means. We may quarrel, frequently we must, with the aim of the poem, but we have first to We cannot legitimately judge ascertain what it is. its

its

means by

external standards

2

(such as accuracy

of fact or logical coherence) which may have no relevance to its success in doing what it set out to do, or, if we like, in becoming what in the end it

has become. 1 I hope to be understood to mean by this the whole state of mind, the mental condition, which in another sense ts the poem. Roughly the collection of impulses which shaped the poem originally, to which

gave expression, and would again give rise.

an ideally susceptible reader it Qualifications to this definition would, of course, be needed, if strict precision were needed, but here this may I do not mean by its aim any sociological, aesthetic, suffice. commercial or propagandist intentions or hopes of the poet. 2 This was Ruskin's calamitous though noble mistake. See his remarks on the Pathetic Fallacy (Modern Painters, Vol. Ill, pt. 4). He is unjust, for example, to Pope, because he does not see tha poetry may have other aims besides clear thinking and strong feeling. it

to which, in

4

3

CHAPTER

III

SENSE AND' FEELING

My belief is that there every one is under the sway of preferences deeply rooted within, into the hands of which he unwittingly plays as he pursues his speculation. When there are such good grounds for distrust, only a tepid feeling of indulgence is possible towards the But I hasten to add that such results of one's own mental labours. self-criticism does not render obligatory any special tolerance of One may inexorably reject theories that are divergent opinions. contradicted by the very first steps in the analysis of observation, and yet at the same time be aware that those one holds oneself have only a tentative validity. FREUD, Beyond the Pleasure Principle.

So far we have been concerned with some of the snares that waylay the apprehension and judgment of the sense of poetry, treated more or less in isolation from its other kinds of meaning. But the interferences with one another of these various meanings

A

mistake give rise to more formidable difficulties. as to the general intention of a passage can obviously twist its sense for us, and its tone and feeling, almost out of recognition. If we supposed, for example, that Poem I should be read, not as a passage from an Epic, but as a piece of dramatic verse put in the mouth either of a prosing bore, or of a juvenile enthusiast, our apprehension of its tone and feeling would obviously be changed, and our judgment of it, though still perhaps adverse, would be based upon

The different intentions different considerations. attributed to Poem II by readers who take it to a deep passion for real express on the one hand an atmosphere of on the other life and (2-61) *

'

'

'

(2-71) reflect quietness and uninterrupted peace themselves in the different descriptions they give of delicate its tone breathless tumultuous music ', (' *

205

206

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

movement with

1 clear, fine tone, gravity

and

steadi-

More

'). plainly the rather one-sided debates about the intentions of Poems VIII and XIII reveal how much this major aspect, as it were, influences the minor aspects, through which the major aspect,

ness

The one would suppose, must be apprehended. with which a conviction readers to rapidity many leap as to a poem's general intention, and the ease with which this assumption can distort their whole reading, is one of the most interesting features in the And its moral is perhaps as important protocols. as any that can be drawn. With most good poetry more than one look is needed before we can be sure of the intention, and sometimes everything else in the poem must become clear to us before this. Tone, as a distinct character in a poem, is less easy to discuss than the others, and its importance may Yet poetry, which has no easily be overlooked. other very remarkable qualities, may sometimes take very high rank simply because the poet's attitude to his listeners in view of what he nas to say is so perfect. Gray and Dryden are notable examples. Gray's Elegy, indeed, might stand as a supreme to show how powerful an exquisitely tone adjusted may be. It would be difficult to maintain that the thought in this poem is either

instance

2 striking or original, or that its feeling is exceptional. It embodies a sequence of reflections and attitudes that under similar conditions arise readily in any

contemplative mind.

Their character as common-

'Tone in a quite different sense here, of course; but these descriptions of the qualities of the verse sounds do enable us to infer differences in the way the reader feels that he is being addressed. 2 The originality of the thoughts and that of the expression are to be The four stanzas beginning, Yet e?en these bones, distinguished here. are to me, original I have never seen the notions in any other place ; yet he that reads them here persuades himself that he has always felt them.' Dr Johnson may be right in this, but I find it hard not to believe that the notions in these four stanzas have not been familiat to many who neither knew the Elegy nor received them from those 5

1

*

:

who

did.

SENSE AND FEELING

207

make them any less the and important, Elegy may usefully remind us that boldness and originality are not necessities for great But these thoughts and feelings, in part poetry. because of their significance and their nearness to

places, needless to say, does not

us, are peculiarly difficult to express without faults If we are forced ,to express them we can of tone. *

hardly escape pitching them in a key which overdoes them, or we take refuge in an elliptic mode of utterance hinting them rather than rendering them to avoid offence either to others or to ourselves. Gray, however, without overstressing any point, '

composes

a long address, perfectly

accommodating

feelings towards the subject and his awareness of the inevitable triteness of the only

his

familiar

possible reflections, to the discriminating attention of his audience. And this is the source of his

triumph which we may misunderstand if we treat it simply as a question of style '. Indeed, many of the secrets of style could, I believe, be shown to be matters of tone, of the perfect recognition of the writer's relation to the reader in view of what is being said and their joint feelings about it. Much popular verse, of the type with which the name of Wilcox is nowadays somewhat unfairly associated, fails more in this respect than in any It overdoes what it attempts, and so insults other. the reader. And such overstressing is often a very delicate indication of the rank of the author. When ,

'

*

'

'

'

commonplace, either of thought or feeling, is delivered with an air appropriate to a fresh discovery or a revelation, we can properly grow suspicious. For by the tone in which a great writer handles these familiar things we can tell whether they have their due place in the whole fabric of his thought and feeling and whether, therefore, he has the right to our attention. Good manners, fundamentally, are a reflection of our sense of proportion, and faults of

a

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

208

much more than mere superficial blemishes. They may indicate a very deep disorder, The importance of tone appears clearly if we reflect how comparatively easy it is to acquire acceptable doctrines and how difficult to avoid tone are

mistakes in tone.

We must distinguish, however, between what may be called fundamental manners and the code that any given period. Good manners for the eighteenth century may be atrocious by twentiethcentury standards, or vice versa and not only in There are more than a few verses literary matters. in The Rape of the Lock, for example, which would be thought in very poor taste if they were written But the codes that rule wit are peculiarly to-day. variable. Of all literary products jokes are the most to become and tasteless with the passage flat apt rules in

,

'

'

of time.

Eighteenth-century verse writers, on the whole, They paid him, indeed, rarely foiget the reader. rather too much deference, a result of the social In comparison, Swinburne character of the period.

and Shelley often show atrocious manners as poets l they please themselves and continually neglect the ;

Not

reader.

that

good tone requires that the reader

be remembered always, much less that he be conBut the occasions on which he is stantly flattered. be must ignored exciting enough to excuse the poet's Faults of tone, especially over-inrapt oblivion. sistence and condescension, can ruin poetry which

might otherwise have had value, though usually, as I have suggested, they betoken fatal disabilities in the poet. They may, however, be due to clumsiness only. 1

The

Unless

poet has to find some equivalent for the we suppose that we are not so much being addressed as

by the poet's side and harangue the multitude with Swinburne frequently lapses altogether he has neither good nor bad manners, but simply none. This, perhaps, aristocratic invited to stand

him.

trait in

Tone

in

part excuses his long-windedness for example.

;

SENSE AND FEELING

209

gestures and intonations which in ordinary speech so often look after this whole matter, and this translation may at times ask for special discernment and tolerance in the reader. It will have been and VII was noticed that the reception of Poems the readers' determined estimation by very largely of their tone (5-5, 5-8, 5-81^ 7-4, 7-43, 7-6). But in

V

judging such questions

we must remember, though

not at all easy to do so, that tone is not indecan pendent of the other kinds of meaning. allow a poet to address us as though we were somewhat his inferiors if what he has to say convinces us of his right to do so. But when what he offers us is within our own compass, w e may be excused if we grow resentful. The subtleties possible here can it

is

We

r

easily

be imagined, and some

very mysterious until

we

may seem them from this

effects that

look into

point of view can then be explained. Questions of tone arise, of course, whether the reader is ostensibly addressed in the second person or not. The reader can be as grossly insulted in a third-person narrative or in an Elegy, by underrating his sensitiveness or intelligence for example, as by any direct rudeness.

But the most curious and puzzling cases of mutual dependence between different kinds of meaning occur with sense and feeling. They are, as a rule, interlinked and combined very closely, and the exact dissection of the one from the other is sometimes an impossible and always an extremely delicate and But the effort to separate these perilous operation. is forms of meaning instructive, and can help us both of all kinds are so frequent, and to devise educational methods that will to see

why misunderstandings

make them

less

common.

Let us set one complication aside at once. The sound of a word has plainly much to do with the feeling it evokes, above all when it occurs in the

PRACTICAL CRITICISM organised context of a passage of verse. Let us postpone so far as we can all consideration of this whole sensuous aspect of words (including their character as products of the speech-organs and their associated dance-movement) until the following Chapter, where the difficulties of the apprehension of

In practice, of course, poetic form must be tackled. the sound is very important, as one of the causes (together with the word's history, its semantics, its usual applications and contexts and its special context in the poem) of the feeling it carries. But here let us confine our attention to the relations between sense and feeling and to the ways in which the feeling may be, in various degrees, dependent on the sense. And let us be careful to remember that we are concerned, firstly, with the feeling actually aroused by the word in the poem, not with feelings the word might have in other contexts, or the feeling it generally has, or the feeling it ought to have ', though these may with advantage be remembered, for a word's feeling is often determined in part by its sense in other contexts. 1 Even the evident complexities of this subject are prodigious, and it must be left for some treatise of the future on the Emotive Functions of Language '

to display in full their tedium, their beauty, and their 2 Here three main situations supreme significance. can alone be discussed, three types of the interrelation

of sense and feeling. Type I. This is the most obvious case where the feeling is generated by and governed by the sense. 1 On the semantic aspects of this, Owen Barfield, History in English Words, may be profitably consulted. His Poetic Diction is less satisfactory, owing to an unfortunate attempt to construct a an account which blurs the philosophical account of meaning distinction between thought and feeling and reduces the many-sided subject of Meaning to a matter of one aspect only, namely, semantics. 2 If we reflect, for example, upon the emotive formuke in the liturgies of various religions, we shall not underrate the importance

of this topic.

SENSE AND FEELING

The

the feeling evoked is the result of apprehending y As examples, miraculous and sorcery sense. may serve (Poem X). Given the apprehension of '

'

'

their sense, the feeling follows, sense and feeling, seem to form

and as a rule the two, an indissoluble whole.

Here there

is an equally close tie, but For the word first round. way such sense as it conveys is and a feeling, expresses derived from the feeling. Gorgeous (Poem X] is its sense is an excellent example being of a kind The description to excite such and such feelings '. of the feelings would have to be long and include

II.

Type

fixed

other

the

'

'

'

;

mention

of

a

tendency

admiration, and

to

and

'

perhaps, satiation. is a representative

Gorgeous '

'

grudging

contempt,

a certain richness ',

or

aesthetic

it

will

fullness and,

be noticed, '

c

adjecof feeling, and projection may be considered along with beautiful ', pleasant and good in some of their uses. tive.

1

It

registers

*

a

projectile

'

'

*

Type HI. knit

:

*

'

*

their

Here sense and feeling are less closely alliance comes about through their '

'

context. Sprawling may be taken as an example. Its sense (in Poem X) may be indicated as an absence of symmetry, regularity, poise, and coherence, and I have a stretched and loose disposition of parts. been careful here to use only neutral (or nearly neutral) words, in order not to import the feeling The feeling of in my paraphrase of the sense. here is a mixture of good-humoured sprawling mockery and affected commiseration. And this feeling arises from the sense of the word only through the influence of the rest of the poem. It does not derive at all inevitably from the sense of the word '

'

considered by distinguish

itself.

Type

III

See Appendix A, Note

One

test

from Type

by which we can by noticing that

I is

Like most projectile adjectives 3. applied to very different things by different people. 1

it

is

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

212

very special circumstances would be needed to make evoke quite another set of feelings, miraculous '

'

whereas no great change need be imagined for sprawling to excite feelings either of contempt or '

'

'

As

A

drunken 10-55 puts it, man sprawls and totters ', and 10-57 has some other association, though what^t is, is open to conjecture. The looser relation described in Type III is of course the usual condition in poetry. Its separation from Type I x is a matter only of degree, for no word carries a fixed feeling quite irrespective of its context. But the distinction between words whose feeling tends to dominate their context and words of a more malleable nature is useful, for upon it most of easeful relaxation.

mistakes in apprehending feeling turn. The last two lines of Donne's Sonnet (3*12, 3*31, 3*41), the last verse but one of Poem VII (7-4, 7-43, 7-53), '

boom

*

*

poised

',

'

(8-1,

8-n,

8-13),

'

'

'vaporous vitiate air in and rude in Poem '

'

'

and tinkling immortal in Poem ',

in

Poem VIII

IX

(9-41, 9*42)

Poem XI (i i -2, 11-4, 11-421), XIII (13-7, 13*73), provide

some examples upon which to test the distinction. Is the pull exerted by the context (and in these cases the whole of the rest of the text) sufficient to

poem

is

the con-

overcome what may be described

normal separate feeling of the questionable Can this pull bring it in, as an item either in accordance or in due contrast to the rest ? Or does the word resist, stay outside, or wrench the

as the

word

?

poem into crudity or confusion ? To over the resistances of words may sometriumph times be considered the measure of a poet's power (Shakespeare being the obvious example), but more rest of the

1 These types of situation are not mutually exclusive. The same word may give rise simultaneously to situations of Types I and II.

We are often unable to say which of the two, sense or feeling, is the dominant partner, both views being possible. The dilemma may be a tribute to our insight rather than a sign of views may be true.

its

deficiency, for both

SENSE AND FEELING

213

often it is the measure of his discretion, and a reader who is aware of the complexity and delicacy of the reconciliations of diverse feelings that poetry effects will

walk as carefully.

The

influence of the rest of the poem upon the or phrase is exerted in two ways word single between feelings and indirectly through sense. directly The feelings already occupying the mind limit the they may tinge it, possibilities of the new word they may bring out one of its possible feelings with an added tang of contrast. Words, as we all recognise, are as ambiguous in their feeling as in their sense but, though we can track down their equivocations of sense to some extent, we are comparatively helpless with their ambiguities of feeling. only know that words are chameleon-like in their feeling, governed in an irregular fashion by their surroundings. ;

;

We

'

'

In this psychical relativity words may be compared with colours, but of the laws governing the effects of collocation and admixture hardly anything is known.

more interesting, therefore, to consider the other way in which the feeling of a phrase or word is controlled by the context through the transactions It is

between parts of the sense in the whole passage. On this much more can be said, for here the whole apparatus of our verbal and logical intelligence can be brought to bear. When a phrase strikes us as particularly happy, or particularly unfortunate, we can usually contrive, by examining the fabric of the sense into which it fits, to find rational grounds for our approval or dislike. And we often seem to see clearly it

is.

the emotional effect should be just what But there is an odd fact to be noted which

why

may make

us hesitate.

The

phrase

commonly

is

accepted or rejected, and its feeling merged, for good or ill, into the poem long before the discursive intelligence has performed its task of working out the cross-implications, affiliations and discrepancies

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

214

of senses which later on of its success or failure.

may seem

the explanation

Three conjectures may be offered to account for an instantaneity which has led many critics to undervalue the work of intellectual analysis in the reading It may be that the apprehension of a of poetry.

network of logical relations between ideas is one thing and that the analysis and clear formulation of them is quite another, and that the first may often be easy and instantaneous when the second is difficult and laborious. This seems likely, and many parallel A cricketer, for example, can cases can be found. judge a ball without in the least being able to describe its flight, or say how or why he meets it as he does. Secondly, if, as seems possible, some '

'

occurs in the reading of while under the influence of actually, poetry, the poem, apprehend more than we are able to recall when we come to reflect upon it out of the trance This conjecture, however, afterwards. seems extravagant. Thirdly, the compression of to obstruct the discursive tends poetic language that works by spreading ideas out and intelligence separating their parts. But this very concentration

degree of

dissociation

we may

'

'

may

assist

immediate, instantaneous, apprehension.

Nowhere but in poetry, unless in mathematics, do we meet with ideas so closely packed together, so woven. (See further Appendix A, Note 5.) instance may assist us to keep in touch with the observable facts while considering this obscure but important matter. The point is worth some for it to any account of how is cardinal trouble, is read and poetry why misunderstandings both of sense and feeling are so common and so difficult to avoid. The second line of the last verse of Poem will serve our purpose

tightly

An

X

:

O

It will

frail steel tissue

of the sun

be agreed that the sense here

is intricate,

and

SENSE AND FEELING

when

215

analysed out it shows a rational with the feeling which those readers correspondence who accept the line as one of the felicities of the poem may be supposed to have experienced. Let that

is

it

me

give a fairly detailed analysis, first asking any reader who approves of the line to consider how much logical structure the sense seems to him to have as he reads (not when he reflects). How far does this logical structure which appears to him while reading seem the source of the feeling of the words ? Does it not rather remain in a vague

background, more a possibility than an actuality ? Tissue ', to begin with the noun, has a double *

'

'

in extension from cloth of steel cloth of gold or cloth of silver ', the cold, metallic, inorganic quality of the fabric being perhaps imsecondly, thin, soft, semi-transparent as portant

sense

firstly,

;

'

'

'

'

'

;

with tissue-paper.

c

Steel

'

is

also present as a sense-

kind, when the transference is from species to genus, steel a particular kind of strong material being used to stand for any material strong enough to hold together, as it appears, the immensity of the cloud-structure. The colour Frail echoes suggestion of steel is also relevant. the semi-transparency of tissue ', the diaphanousness, and the impending dissolution too. Of the sun it be added of the runs to silk worm ', may parallel I give such an elaborate i.e., produced by the sun. explanation partly because of the many readers (10-42) who had difficulty in making out this line. It is safe, perhaps, to affirm that few readers will become clearly aware of more than a small part of these fibrillar articulations and correspondences of the sense until they deliberately question the line and think it over. Yet it can be accepted (and, I must add, rejected) with certainty and conviction on the strength of what seems the merest glimpse of its sense. Moreover, a definite and relevant feeling can

metaphor

of

Aristotle's

'

second

'

'

'

'

*

*

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

2i6

be aroused at once. In fact, a feeling that is quite pertinent seems often to precede any clear grasping of the sense. And most readers will admit that, as a rule, the full sense, analysed and clearly articulated, never comes to their consciousness yet they may The reception of Poems I get the feeling perfectly. and V was largely determined by whether the readers ;

responded

first

1-17 and 1-3

;

to sense or to feeling.

and

5-81, 5-38 and 5-53. this apply to tone.

(Compare Also 7-43.)

more does all far from wishing to quarrel with this summary kind of reading when it is practised by highly competent readers. A mere glimpse, to the right kind of eye, may be amply sufficient, but the dangers Still

I

am

to those

who

are less quick

Dangers both of a

false

and

sensitive are obvious.

understanding of the sense

The feeling. corrective, in ideal perfection, is equally obvious exercise in analysis and cultivation of the habit of regarding poetry as capable of explanation. But and of a distorted development of

in practice the corrective has its own dangers. It has not been enough recognised in schools that making a paraphrase or gloss for any poem worth reading is a delicate exercise. Recalling some of the atrocities which teachers sometimes permit themselves, one is tempted to believe that the remedy might be worse than the disease. The risk of supposing that the feelings which the logical expansion of a poetic phrase excites must be those which the phrase was created to convey is very great. We easily substitute a bad piece of prose for the poem a peculiarly damaging form of attack upon poetry. (See p. 191.) Furthermore, we must recognise that a single paraphrase will rarely indicate more than a single partial aspect of a poem. We often need one form of paraphrase to elucidate its sense and quite

another to suggest its feeling. Since the only cure that can be suggested for the general unintelligibility

SENSE AND FEELING

217

of poetry that the protocols exhibit is some more enlightened use of interpretation exercises in our schools, it is worth while to consider what means are available for developing this power of apprehending both sense and feeling in teachers and pupils alike. It may be remarked that this is not a matter

which

concerns poetry only, though incapacity, obtuseness and failure in discrimination most appear through poetry, the most concentrated and delicate form of human utterance. If we compare our powers of analysing sense and feeling we shall recognise at once that feeling, in contrast with sense, is a will-o'-the-wisp. have a marvellous apparatus of inter-engaging and over-

We

lapping symbols for handling and elucidating sense,

machine of great sensitiveness and power, equipped with automatic safety devices and danger signals in the form of contradictions. Logical

a logical

language has even reached such a high state of development that it can now be used to improve and extend itself, and may in time be made selfrunning and even fool-proof. For handling feeling we have nothing at all comparable. We have to rely

upon introspection, a few clumsy descriptive names for emotions, some scores of aesthetic adjectives and the indirect resources of poetry, resources at the disposal of a few men only, and for them only in Introspection has become a byeven and sensory products where intellectual word, and processes are concerned, but it is even more untrustworthy when applied to feelings. For a feeling even more than an idea or an image tends to vanish as we turn our introspective attention upon it. We have to catch it by the tip of its tail as it decamps. Furthermore, even when we are partially successful in catching it, we do not yet know how to analyse it. Analysis is a matter of separating out its attributes, and no one knows yet what attributes a feeling may exceptional hours.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

218

have, what their system of interconnections is, or which are important, which trivial. This, it may be hoped, matters less than might be supposed. For if we had to wait until psychology had conquered this territory we might reasonably But we shall find encouragement if we despair. look more closely into the methods by which we do in spite of the backwardness of psychology actually contrive to discriminate between feelings, and it is not impossible that by so doing we may be able to give psychology a leg up.

We do somehow manage to discuss our feelings, sometimes with remarkable facility and success. We say things about them sometimes that seem to be subtle and recondite, and yet true. We do this in in of our feebleness spite introspection and our ignorance of the general nature of feelings.

How

do we come

to be so knowledgeable and clever ? Psychologists have never, I think, resolutely faced this question of how we know so much about ourselves that does not find

any way at present into their Put text-books. shortly, the answer seems to be that this knowledge is lying dormant in the dictionary.

Language has become

its

repository, a record,

a

were, of human nature. No one who uses a dictionary for other than orthographic purposes can have escaped the shock of discovering how very far ahead of us our words often are. How subtly they already record disreflection, as

it

which we are still groping. And many young philologists and grammarians must have indulged dreams of bringing some of this wisdom tinctions towards

into the ordered system of science. If we could read this reflection of our minds aright, we might learn

much about ourselves we should certainly

we shall ever wish increase enormously our power of handling our knowledge. Many of the distinctions words convey have been arrived at nearly as

to

know

;

as

SENSE AND FEELING

219

and recorded by methods no single mind could apply, complex, methods that are, as yet, not well understood. But our understanding of them is improving psychology has notably helped here and our power of interpreting the psychological records embodied in words is increasing and capable

immense increase in the future. Among the means to this end a combination or co-operation of psychology and literary analysis, or criticism, seems the most hopeful. Neither alone can do much, both together may go far. There is a possibility that of

something parallel to the recent advances in physics might be achieved if we could combine them. As geology, in the early stages of inquiry into radioactivity, came in to supply evidence that experiments could not elicit, so the records, hidden not in rocks

but in words, and accessible only to literary pene1 with groping psychological tration, may combine to results as yet unprofitable to analysis produce conjecture. From these high speculations let us come back nearer to the problem of sense and feeling. actually do we enquire into the feeling a word (or we inquire into its sense is phrase) carries ? not so difficult to make out. utter the word or and the it arouses, note phrase thoughts being careful to keep them in the context of the other thoughts aroused by the whole passage. then attempt, by a well recognised and elaborate technique, to construct a definition, choosing from among several

How

How

We

We

If to suit our purpose and the situation. have any difficulty in distinguishing the precise sense, we can put definite questions, we can

methods

we

still

which the dictionary will substitute other words in the same thoughts. arouse that part supply

We

This inquiry will not be so much a matter of semantics (though semantics obviously provide invaluable infotmation) as of a comparative study of the resources (direct and indirect) available in different languages and periods for psychological purposes. 1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

220

note the samenesses and differences and plot the position of the thought we wish to define with regard to these other thoughts. In these and other ways we exploit the syntactical suppleness of language and its overlapping vocabulary to disentangle sense, but if we consider how far the same resources are available for disentangling feeling

we

There is, it is true, a departa certain selection of the dictionary, applied in the same fashion. There

find a difference.

ment of language, which can be

are the names of the emotions and of the emotional attitudes ; anger, fear, joy, sorrow hope, surl dread. And the derivative prise, discouragement, .

.

.

.

.

.

adjectives, verbs and adverbs, enthusiastic, passionate, tender mournstartle, delight, distress ; ; .

.

.

.

.

.

Moreover, we have

the of the aesthetic or special apparatus projectile adjectives. express our feeling by describing the object which excites it as splendid, glorious, ugly, words which really indicate horrid, lovely, pretty not so much the nature of the object as the character of our feeling towards it. 2 Thus we obtain an indirect notation for our feelings by projecting them rather than describing them. But we use this notation in a very unsystematic fashion, though a very curious and interesting order may be sometimes glimpsed behind it. Some of these words, for example, may be used together, while others bar one

fully, eagerly, gaily.

.

.

.

'

'

We

.

.

.

A

thing may be both grand and sublime, it can be glorious and beautiful, or gorgeous and ugly but it can hardly be both pretty and beautiful, it can certainly not be pretty and sublime. These accordances and incompatibilities reflect the organisation of our feelings, the relations that hold between them. But our power to take advantage of this linguistic reflection of our emotional constitution

another

out.

;

1

2

Logically, not grammatically, derivative, of course.

See Appendix A, Note

3.

SENSE AND FEELING is at

perhaps because so

present very limited

work has been done upon

when we attempt

221

this subject.

And

to describe the difference

little it

is

between

feelings which pretty and beautiful express, for example, that we discover how unsatisfactory are the verbal resources expressly allocated to this

the

purpose.

There is, it is true, a certain apparatus of qualifying words and phrases that we use rather speculatively and uncertainly to describe feelings. We can say of a feeling that it is elevated or gross, or tenuous, or calm, or grave, or expansive. Most of these are clearly metaphorical expressions, words whose sense has not normally anything to do with feeling, transferred and applied to feeling on account of some glimpsed or supposed character in the feeling analogous to a character in the object the word Sometimes the analogy is close usually describes. fleeting, massive, intense, constricting

and our

slight

knowledge of the physiology of emotions may also help us here. But often the resemblance or analogy It is hard to is remote and will not bear pressing. being said when a feeling is described as profound, or vital. Perhaps very little indeed, may be being said. And often, if we look closely, the metaphor turns out to be not a prose or sense metaphor at all but an emotive metaphor. The

be certain what

difference

is

between these

is

worth some

reflection.1

A metaphor is a shift, a carrying over of a word from its normal use to a new use. In a sense metaphor the shift of the word is occasioned and justified by a similarity or analogy between the object In an it is usually applied to and the new object. the shift occurs emotive metaphor through some similarity between the feelings the new situation and the normal situation arouse. The same word may, 1

Some

Principles,

further explanations of this distinction will be found in Ch. VI. p. 240, and in The Meaning of Meaning,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM in different contexts, be either a sense or an emotive metaphor. If you call a man a swine, for example, it may be because his features resemble those of

a pig, but

it

may be

because you have towards him

something of the feeling you conventionally have towards pigs, or because you propose, if possible, to Both metaphorical shifts may excite those feelings. be combined simultaneously, and they often are. But in studying our methods of describing feelings they have to be distinguished. Consider, for example, profound, one of the commonest terms by which we attempt to describe emotions. When we use it we may be doing either of two things, or both together. We may be simply inviting from our reader the awed respectful feelings he usually has towards other things that are said to be profound deep lakes, vast chasms in the earth, night, human error, the wisdom of sages, and so forth. Often we can obtain this for without our feeling requiring the reader respect

any fashion, and in This is the fact while discouraging investigation. Or we may be simplest type of emotive metaphor. asking him to recognise that our feeling has in some to consider the feeling itself in

(undefined) way something of the character of other profound things that it is not easily explored, for example, that it may contain all kinds of things, or This is the sense that it is easy to get lost in it. the are two combined, without metaphor. Usually It is not a of either. very encouraging sign analysis of our general intelligence, or of our emotional discrimination, that this word has been found invaluable by many popular critics and preachers. I must take some credit for charity in not citing a collection of examples that lies upon my table. Most descriptions of feelings, and nearly all subtle descriptions, are metaphorical and of the combined The power to analyse explicitly the ground type. of the transference is not widely possessed in any

SENSE AND FEELING high degree, and

it is

less exercised

223

both in school-

in general discussion than might be better understanding of metaphor is one wished. of the aims which an imposed curriculum of literary But a writer studies might well set before itself.

training and

A

use a metaphor and a reader take both its sense and feeling correctly without either writer or reader being capable of explaining how it works. Such explanations are a special branch of the critic's

may

1

business. Conversely, however acute and penea reader may be, it does not follow that he trating will be able to create good metaphorical language It is one thing to be able to analyse himself.

resemblances and analogies when they have been seized and recorded by someone else ;

another thing to

effect

the

first it

is

discovery and

quite integration oneself. This brings us obviously back to the poet, one of whose gifts, ordinarily, is just this command of From the technical point of original metaphor. indeed the view poet's task is constantly (though not only) that of finding ways and means of controlling He has to be expert, if feeling through metaphor. not in describing feeling, in presenting it, and presenting and describing are here rather near Even in the case of profound, dissected together. was a third possibility. The word there above, may instigate in the reader an echo, a shadowsemblance of the emotion it describes. He may find a sympathetic pulse awaken in his bosom, and feel serious, self-conscious and responsible, at grips with Destiny. If so, the word may in part have presented the feeling as well as described it. Any lively, close, realistic thought of an emotion is so apt to revive it that most descriptions that are at all concrete or intimate, that do succeed in putting it before one ', '

also reinstate

Of

the

it.

two kinds of paraphrasing which, we

224

PRACTICAL CRITICISM ^

suggested, might be made more use of in our schools the one to exhibit the sense of a poem, the other the first requires only an to portray its feeling of use the dictionary, logjcal acumen, intelligent a command of syntax, and pertinacity. The second demands qualities of sensitiveness and^imagination, the power to use remote experience and to create v

metaphors,

gifts

which may seem

to

belong by

It may seem strange birthright to the poet alone. to suggest that these gifts could be, developed by school training, but remembering the original endowment of average children and comparing it with the obtuseness of the sample adult, the proposal (if we

can guard against some of the dangers hinted at above), may not in the end prove to be so unduly It was partly to shp^v the need and to the possibility of improved methods in suggest education that my documentation in Part II was

optimistic.

extended to such length.

:

CHAPTER

IV

POETIC 'FORM Beauty and melody have not the arithmetical password, and so are This teaches us that what exact science looks for is not

barred out. entities

of

some

...

particular category,

but entities with a metrical

would be no use for beauty, say, to fake up a few numerical attributes in the hope of thereby gaining admission into the portals of science and carrying on an aesthetic crusade within. It would find that the numerical aspects were duly admitted, but

aspect.

It

aesthetic significance of

A. S.

them

left

outside.

EDDINOTON, The Nature of the Physical World.

THAT the art of responding to the form of poetry is not less difficult than the art of grasping its content its sense and feeling will be evident to anyone who has glanced through Part II. And since half perhaps of the feeling that poetry carries comes through its form (and through the interaction of form and content) the need for better educational methods, here also, will be admitted. The condition of blank incapacity displayed in 1-161, 3-15, 3-51, in half the comments on Poem VI, in 10-61, 11-41, 12*52 and 13 -61 to mention but a few salient examples the desperate efforts to apply the fruits of the ;

,

traditional

classical

training

shown

in

3-44,

6-33,

and the occurrence of such 12-51 13-62 those between 1-14 and 1-141, 2-2 as divergences and 2-61, 4-27 and 4-31, or 9-3 and 9-31, all tell the same story. A large proportion of even a picked* and

;

public neither understand the kind of importance' that attaches to the movement of words in verse, nor have any just ideas of how to seize this movement or judge it.

may be

It

p

objected that just ideas 225

upon

a point

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

226

admittedly so difficult as the nature of rhythm are not easy to attain, that what matters is sensitiveness, and that this is a special endowment. But, once again, too many young children show an aptitude for the reading of poetry and a capacity to seize its rhythm, for us to admit that so many adults need be so obtuse. Mistaken ideas, and crude unconIt sidered assumptions certainly play their part. may be that the best way to learn how verse should but a few be spoken is to listen to a good speaker reasonable ideas upon the matter can certainly assist, and without them we remain unnecessarily at the mercy of any authoritative mangier of verses we may encounter. Let us begin with the assumption that the protocols show to be most damaging, the notion that regularity is the merit of verse. (13-62 and 3-44 will make the It derives very force of this notion clear to us). the cruder from by-products of Classical largely well Unless Education. very taught, Latin verse is a bad instrument by which to train composition A few very a mind in the appreciation of rhythm. brilliant or very rebellious boys escape, but the rest receive the impression (often indelible) that good verses are simply those that fit a certain framework of rules, and that this framework is the measure of ;

their rhythmical virtue. Applied to English verse the notion meets with a check in the fact that no set of rules has

been found

(or, at least,

agreed upon),

efforts of the rival schools of prosodists seem all directed towards establishing some set of rules,

but the

and the general impression lies

in regularity

is

that metrical excellence

encouraged* and readers

who

have not heard of more refined ideas naturally retain this simple notion. Irregular ', as we know from other contexts, is a word that carries several shades '

of disapprobation. But the patent fact that the best verses are fre-

POETIC FORM

227

quently irregular, that almost as often as not they licences ', 'subfail to conform, however many and equivalences are introduced into stitutions the rules of scansion to bring them into line, has forced upon many prosodists an improved idea of metre. Instead of strict conformity with a pattern, '

'

'

c

an arrangement of departures from and returns to the pattern has come to b*e regarded as the secret of poetic rhythm. The ear, it has been thought, grows tired of strict regularity but delights in recognising behind the variations the standard that

governs them. This conception, though an improvement, is still too superficial. I have put it in a language which reveals its weakness, for the apprehension of poetic rhythm is only partly an affair of the ear. The defect of the view is that it regards poetic rhythm as a character of the sound of the words apart from still

their effects in the

mind

of the reader.

them and

The rhythm

be the cause supposed But the difference between good of these effects. rhythm and bad is not simply a difference between it certain sequences of sounds goes deeper, and to understand it we have to take note of the meanings to belong to

is

to

;

of the words as well.

This point, which

is

of

some

practical importance, ourselves reciting verses appears clearly into the ear of an instrument designed to record (by curves drawn on squared paper) all the physical characters of the sequences of sounds emitted, their strength, pitch, durations, and any other features we choose to examine. (This is not a fantastic suggestion, for such instruments can be arranged and begin to be part of the furniture of good phonetic The shape of our curves will give us laboratories.) a transcription of all the physical rhythms 1 of the

we imagine

if

1

I

use the word

'

repetitive configuration,

i.e.,

;

here in the very wide sense of a a group of groups such that the several

rhythm

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

228

Now the view objected to would lead us to conclude that verses which are good poetry would show some peculiarity l in their curves, that verses which Put in this manner, are bad poetry could not show. I that the conclusion is most it will be hope, agreed, But if we say, as many have said, that unplausible. poetic rhythm is a quality of the sound, the sensuous verses.

form, of words, there

is

ho means of escaping

it.

Yet it is perfectly true that many great passages of poetry do seem to possess, merely as sounds, a peculiar undeniable virtue. And it is sometimes suggested that a sensitive listener, knowing no Italian, who listens to Dante, well read, would be able to distinguish the verses of the Divina Comedia from those

of

some

skilful

but

superiority in sound,

negligible

it

is said,

Their imitator. reveal them.

would

The experiment might be

interesting, but it has an obvious flaw which makes it inconclusive. The reader must be presumed to understand what he is reading, and it is likely that what the sensitive listener would really discern would be signs, in the reader's voice and manner, of the differences due to this

understanding. For whether a speaker is really interested or not in what he is saying, and in what fashion, is a point we can be quick to detect. then, are we to explain this apparent superiority in the sound of good poetry if we admit that on the recording drum its curves might be

How,

constituent groups are similar to one another, though not necessarily Elsewhere (in Principles of Literary Criticism, exactly similar. Ch. XVII) I have used the word in a quite different sense, namely, for that dependence of part upon part within a whole which derivesx from expectation and foresight. This last is not, perhaps, the most natural use of the word, but this dependence is, I think, what many people who discuss, for example, the rhythm of prose, rhythm in pictures, or rhythm in golf, have in mind if so, the use is justified. The sense here used, on the other hand, allows us to speak of the movements of the planets as being rhythmical apart from any mind which observes ;

them. 1 Not, of course, a simple, direct similarity of rhythm order or regularity, some relevant peculiar property.

;

but

some

POETIC FORM

229

indistinguishable from those of rubbish. is that the rhythm which we admire, we seem to detect actually in the sounds, and

answer

we seem

to

ascribe to

respond

to, is

them and

is,

The which which

something which we only

actually,

mental activity through which

a

rhythm of the

we apprehend

not and the sense the sound of but their wgrds only 1 The mysterious glory which seems to feeling. inhere in the sound of certain lines is a projection 2 of the thought and emotion they evoke, and the peculiar satisfaction they seem to give to the ear is a reflection of the adjustment of our feelings which has been momentarily achieved. Those who find this a hard saying may be invited to consider anew the reception of Poem IV, pp. 55-58 above. Such an explanation has this incidental advantage, that it accounts for the passionate admiration sometimes accorded to stray lines that seem of a mediocre manufacture. The reader (1-31) who compares the exhortations in Poem I to wonderful music serves us excellently as an example (1-145, 1-21 and '

'

1-3

may

also

be re-examined).

paralleled in all enters, and this is

human

affairs

The phenomenon into

which

is

feeling

no occasion to expatiate upon it. But the theory of poetic rhythm as something

'

projected

',

ascribed to verses rather than inherent

them, must not lead us to wwrfer-estimate the part played by the actual sounds. They are a very important contributing factor though they do not carry the whole responsibility for the rhythm. They are the skeleton upon which the reader casts flesh in

1

See Appendix A, Note

4.

Projected in the sense that our pleasure is projected when we describe someone as 'pleasant' (to be distinguished from 'pleasing') or ugly (to be distinguished from 'causing a loathing'). See Appendix A, Note 3. A clear indication that this projection occurs in apprehending rhythm is the fact that we can give several alternative rhythms to a simple series of stimuli, such as a metronome-beat or the ticking of a clock. Many other facts of experiment and observation might be brought to support this conclusion. 2

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

230

And if the skeleton is too much out of joint, or if it is the skeleton of a whippet, when sense and feeling demand that of a cat, no goodwill on the part of the reader and no depth of realisation of sense and feeling will overcome the disability. To see this we have only to change the rhythm of any convenient passage of good verse, while preserving its vocabulary and, so far as possible, its syntax. and clothing.

The

Whether nobler

it is

The arrows and

slings of

in the

mind

to suffer

Fortune outrageous.

comic-opera patter. The sense master the form, and its failure gives

effect is that of

fights in vain to

an inevitable

air of frivolity. Metrical form, therefore, that is to say the rhythm inherent in the sequence of the actual sounds in verse, the rhythm that appears in the records of the it

kymograph, is very important. It can easily make what might be a good poem into a bad one. But it cannot be judged apart from the sense and feeling of the words out of which it is composed nor apart from the precise order in which that whole of sense and

The movement or plot of the word-by-word development of the poem, as a structure of the intellect and emotions, is always, in good poetry, in the closest possible relation to the movement of the metre, not only giving it its tempo, feeling builds itself up.

sometimes violently. Readers up poem though it were a bicycle, spot its metre, and pedal off on it regardless of where it is going, will naturally, if it is a good poem, get into For only a due awareness of its sense and trouble. feeling will bring its departures from the pattern metre into a coherent, satisfying whole. The notion that verses must conform to metrical patterns was described earlier in this chapter as the most damaging enemy to good reading. It is a double-edged notion, blindly destructive on both but even distorting

who

take

a

it

as

POETIC FORM

231

leads, on the one hand, to mechanical to a cruel forcing (3-44) of syllables into reading, a mould which they were never meant to fit, and to a ruthless lopping away of vocables (cf. 8-44, 12-51, 13-62), treatment that is fatal to the movement of the verse. On the other hand it leads to bitter complaints against irregularity and a refusal to enter into poems which do not accord smoothly with the sides.

It

'

'

chosen pattern (8-43). Against these unnecessary mistakes

it

cannot be

too much insisted that there is no obligation upon verses to conform to any standard. The pattern is a an invaluable one it convenience, though only it indicates the general movement of the rhythm a central from which a variations model, line, gives in the movement take their direction and gain an it added significance gives both poet and reader a firm support, a fixed point of orientation in the it has indefinitely vast world of possible rhythms but it has no other virtues of a psychological order compulsory powers, and there is no good reason whatever to accord it them. After the conformity notion, its close cousin, the notion that poetic rhythm is independent of sense, is the most hurtful. It is easy, however, to show how much the rhythm we ascribe to words (and even their inherent rhythm as sounds) is influenced by our apprehension of their meanings. Prepare a few phrases with their sounds and inherent rhythms as ;

;

;

;

;

closely alike as possible but with different meanings. Then compare for example :

Deep

into a

gloomy grot

with Peep into a roomy

The

cot.

movement of the words, be in is different, though both cases, though almost every prosodist would have to scan them in ascribed rhythm, the

trivial

it

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

232

the same fashion, and the

kymograph would,

I think,

most readers, show few important differences. 1 Going a step further, if the meaning of the words is irrelevant to the form of the verse, and if this independent form possesses aesthetic virtue, as not a few have maintained (3-6 will do as a specimen) it should be possible to take some recognised masterpiece of poetic rhythm and compose, with nonsense syllables, a" double or dummy which at least comes recognisably near to possessing the same virtue. for

J.

Drootan-Sussting Benn

Mill-down Leduren N. Telamba-taras oderwainto weiring zet bidreen

Awersey

Ownd

istellester

sween

Lithabian tweet ablissood Apleven aswetsen sestinal

Yintomen

I adaits

If the reader has

reference

owdswown

stiering

afurf I gallas Ball.

any

difficulty in

to

On

scanning these the

Milton, verses, Morning of Christ's Nativity, xv, will prove of assistance, and the attempt to divine the movement of the original before looking it up will at least show how much the sense, syntax, and feeling of verse may serve as an introduction to its form. But the illustration will also support a subtler argument against anyone who affirms that the mere sound of verse has independently any considerable aesthetic virtue. For he will either have to say that this verse is valuable (when he may be implored to take up his pen at once and enrich the world with many more such verses, for nothing could be easier), or he will have to say that it is the

differences in sound

between

this purified

dummy and

the original which deprive the dummy of poetic In which case he will have to account for merit.

am aware that some difference

such experiments are invalidated by the fact vowel and consonantal sounds is introduced, and so the balance of the inherent rhythm is to some degree disturbed, but though not persuasive, these experiments seem to me instructive. 1

that

I

all

in

POETIC FORM

233

the curious fact that just those transformations which redeem it as sound, should also give it the sense and feeling we find in Milton. A staggering coincidence, unless the meaning were highly relevant to the effect of the form.

Such arguments (which might be elaborated) do not tend to diminish the power of the sound (the inherent rhythm) when it works in conjunction with The reception of Poem VI (and sense and feeling. especially 6-32, 6-33) proves both the subtlety and the importance of this collaboration. The twofold contrasts of 4*23 and 4-24 and 4-25 also admirably The mistake of neglecting sound display the point. must rank next after the Regularity and altogether In as a source of bad reading. Independence myths fact the close co-operation of the form with the

meaning modifying it and being modified by it in ways that though subtle are, in general, perfectly intelligible

is

the chief secret of Style in poetry.

But so much mystery and obscurity has been raised around this relation by talk about the identity of Form and Content, or about the extirpation of the Matter in the Form, that we are in danger of forgetting how natural and inevitable their co-operation must be. By bad reading I suggest that we should mean not so much reading that would offend our sus1 as reading that ceptibilities if we were listening, prevents the reader himself from entering into the poem. The sounds most people make when they read aloud probably seem very different to their audience and to them. The phenomena of projection are '

noticeable here.

We

'

invest our rendering with the

1 Very unfortunately most of the gramophone records yet available must be described as exceedingly bad in both senses. They would And justify in a sensitive child a permanent aversion from poetry. less sensitive children may pick up habits of 'sentimentalisation emotionality' and exaggeration, very difficult to cure. Some of Mr Drinkwater's records, however, point in a better direction and ',

4

deserve honourable mention.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

234

we wish it to have unless some critical eye cocked upon us and two readings of the same poem that sound very different may not, to the readers themselves, be after all so unlike. The rhythms they ascribe to the poem may be more similar than the rhythms they actually succeed in giving it. Thus though private reading aloud is much to be recommende'd l as an aid in working out the form of a poem, it is doubtful whether publicreading (in the classroom for example) should be qualities

is

encouraged. Nothing more easily defeats the whole aim of poetry than to hear it incompetently mouthed or to struggle oneself to read out a poem in public before it has given up most of its secrets. For to read poetry well is extremely difficult. One piece of advice which has proved its usefulness may perhaps

be offered

:

to

remember

that

we

are

more

likely to

read too fast than to read too slow. Certainly, if the rhythm of a poem is not yet clear to us, a very slow private reading gives a better chance for the necessary interaction of form and meaning to develop than any number of rapid perusals. This simple neurological fact, if it could be generally recognised and respected, would probably more than anything else help to make poetry understood. movements of the organs of speech (with muscular images of them) enter into the ascribed sound of words almost as much as auditory sensations and images themselves. 1

and

Partly because tactile

CHAPTER V IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

O now when the Bardo of the Dream-State upon me is dawning Abandoning the inordinate corpse-like sleeping of the sleep !

of

stupidity,

May

the consciousness undistractedly be kept in

its

natural state

;

Grasping the true nature of dreams, may I train myself in the clear Light of Miraculous Transformation Acting not like the brutes in slothfulness, May the blending of the practising of the sleep state and actual experience be highly valued by me. Tibetan Prayer^ :

FROM

the

first

we must

(p. 14) less general,

two of our ten critical pass to a group of more

difficulties

particular, As to obstacles to just discernment. erratic imagery whether visual imagery or imagery of the other senses when the extreme variety of human beings in the kinds of imagery they enjoy, and the use they make of it, has been realised, little need be added to what has already been said a propos of Poem (10-2-10-24) and elsewhere. (Cf. 13-462,

X

11-22; 9-4-9-48, 9-91, 7-32, 3-7. Also Appendix A, Note 5.) With some readers imagery of all kinds rightly plays an immensely important part in their reading. But they should not be surprised that for equally good readers not of the visualising 12-7,

images hardly appear, and It may have no they appear special significance. seem to the visualisers that the poet works through imagery, but this impression is an accident of their mental constitution, and people of a different constitution have other ways of reaching the same or image-producing type

if

results. 1

See

W.

Y.

Evans Wentz, The Tibetan Book of the Dead, 236

p. 202.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

236

Visualisers,

The

however,

are

exposed to a special

and precise images which arise danger. before us, owe much of their character and detail to sources which are quite outside the poet's control. To use them as an important thread in the texture of the poem's meaning, or to judge the poem by them, is a very In so far as the meaning risky proceeding. of the poem has actually embodied itself for us in our imagery, and is really reflected therein, we are And I would not deny that many justified, of course. readers may find their imagery a most sensitive and useful index to the meaning. But the merit of the vivid

is not in the imagery. To put the error in cruder form a poem which calls up a beautiful picture is not thereby proved to be a good poem. The detail, especially, of most readers' imagery is likely to be irrelevant, to depend upon circumstances only by accident connected with the meaning of the poem the general character of the imagery and its

poem

*

its

:

'

;

may be more

We

ought to be significant. in a for the threads such very wary discussing point, of relevant connection which the poem may touch,

feeling

enters now into one, now into another of the vast reservoirs of experience in different readers' minds, are too various, complex and subtle for any external observer to trace. In this sense there is far more in any poem than any one reader can discover. as

it

A

quality in an image which seems to one reader quite beside the point may be an essential item to another. Those whose experience comes to them chiefly through their eyes may rightly attach extreme

importance to nuances in their imagery.

None

the

less, in less sensitive and more chaotic visualisers, imagery is a frequent occasion for irrelevance.

We

shall

consider

understand the situation better

some other

if

we

instances of irrelevance, for the problem of the intrusion of what is not germane to the meaning is a general one. Examples in plenty

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

237

have been noticed in the protocols, and we resurvey a few of them with advantage.

will

may The memory of

simplest case is where some particular the reader's personal biography is recalled, and his response to the poem becomes largely a response to The tinkling piano association this reminiscence. It not hard to imagine the of 8- 1 1 belongs here. is^ sounds which the poem recalled to this reader's mind, nor (if we read execrating as a portmanteauxword for excruciating and execrable ') difficult to sympathise with him. But his association fails to illustrate the poem as evidently as the odder associaMore doubt may be felt about the tions of 8-21. thunder-storm association of 12-1. It must surely will not be this, for clouds, however heavy rumble '. But there is, it otherwise be heard to '

*

'

'

'

'

'

*

J

,

*

thought, something oppressive and thundery The cathedral the about feeling of Poem XII. associations of Poem VII on the other hand, were clearly relevant (7* 54-7*56), and may be sharply contrasted with the pine-wood phantasy of 7-57. Slightly more complicated are these instances where it is a train of thought, not a memory, that intrudes. The home-sickness of 10-1, the opinions on the musical qualities of hymns (8-2) and on the proper use of music (8-12, 8-32), the historical background of 9-111 and the politics of 9*15, betray themselves as having nothing to do with the matter, but it is not so easy to decide about the War Memorial (7-43) or Joanna Southcott's gladstone-bag (13*5). The associated train of ideas may be merely an ignis fatuus, or a flash of inspiration. Everything depends upon how essential the bond of thought or feeling may be have to ask whether that links it with the poem. 1 from the it really meaning or whether it is springs

may be

',

We

I may remind the reader that, here and elsewhere when I use the word meaning', all the four kinds of meaning discussed in Chapter I 1

'

are referred

to.

238

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

an accidental by-product of a reading which does whether the train of not realise the meaning association has at least started right and is rooted in something essential, and whether or not accidents of ;

the individual reader's

ment have twisted

mood

or history or tempera-

it.

A

special case which well illustrates the general situation occurs when what is thought of is some other poem. If it is another poem by the same

but author the association is likely to be relevant the title, the subject, or some similarity of a single phrase is responsible, the dangers of aberration are obvious. Something has already been said about them in connection with the introduction of Keats into the discussion of Poem V (5*32, 5*34), and the ;

if

X

on Poem (10-47, 10-48, 10-62, also the II, p. 201). very closest and most Only sensitive reading will show whether two poems really have anything that matters in common, and effect of Shelley

Ch.

such superficial resemblances as may be picked up in cursory reading prove nothing unless we can trace them deeper. The great services that comparisons so often render come from the assistance they can give to closer reading, and the greatest possible difference may be as useful as the closest similarity in shaking our minds out of the routine of expectaBut direct comparisons based upon the tion. supposition that poems can be classified by their themes, or metres, for example and that poems in the same class (cloud poems, immortal-beauty poems, graveyard poems, sonnets, and so forth .) must be alike, can only serve to exhibit stupid reading. As with other associations, the quality of the link (the depth of its grounds in the inner nature and structure of the associated things) is the measure of its relevance. Often, of course, an association with another poem will be no more than a means by which a ,,

.

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

239

reader defines, for himself or for others, the kind of This is perhaps feeling the poem evokes in him. what is happening in 1-193 and in 11-4. Such comparisons do not so much influence the reader's judgment pf the poem as reflect it, but with most of the associations we are concerned with here, the association becomes clearly a contributing factor to the poem. The most flagrant cases of irrelevance come from the intrusion into the poem of the hobby-horse or the obsession. The unlucky lover (6-36), the victim of parental advice (6-37), and the victim of circumstances (6-38) provide hardly less clear examples than the symbolist (12-11), the indignant moralist What (8-41), or the educational reformer (10-11). reminiscence this last a is stray prompted point that should be not uninteresting to teachers. The personal situation of the reader inevitably (and within limits rightly) affects his reading, and many more are drawn to poetry in quest of some reflection of their latest emotional crisis than would admit it if faced with such a frank declaration as that in 11-2. Though it has been fashionable in deference to sundry confused doctrines of pure art and im'

'

'

'

to deplore such a state personal aesthetic emotions of affairs, there is really no occasion. For a comof the active in a feelings parison poem with some still in the reader's lively present personal feeling recollection does give a standard, a test for reality. The dangers are that the recollected feelings may overwhelm and distort the poem and that the reader may forget that the evocation of somewhat similar feelings is probably only a part of the poem's endeavour. It exists perhaps to control and order

such feelings and to bring them into relation with other things, not merely to arouse them. But a touchstone for reality is so valuable, and factitious or

conventional

dangers are

worth

feelings risking.

so

common,

that

these

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

240

Thus memories, whether of emotional crises or of scenes visited or incidents observed, are not to be excluded as mere personal intrusions. That they personal is nothing against them all experience is personal the only conditions are that they must be genuine and relevant, and must respect hastily

are

the liberty and

autonomy of the poem.

Genuine

'

memories, for example, of the most moving maniand its loveliest and grandest festations of nature '

'

'

aspects (9-9 and 9-91), if they were compared with what the poem contained, would have influenced the opinions there expressed of Poem IX. It is the absence of such memories that allows a word like glittering to pass unchallenged in the last line but one of the poem. At a moment when accuracy and verisimilitude in description are important, appears a word completely false to the appearances that are being described. Mountains that are surging away *

'

*

'

into the sunset glow

unless the sun (or

But

*

With

'

do not

they cannot, high in the heavens. a stock epithet for icy mountains.

moon)

glitter

;

is fairly

glittering is this we are brought to the important, neglected

and curious topic of Stock Responses. So much that passes for poetry is written, and so much reading of even the most original poetry is governed, by these fixed conventionalised reactions that their natural history will repay investigation. Their intervention, moreover, in all forms of human in business, in personal relationships, in activity public affairs, in Courts of Justice will be recognised, and any light which the study of poetry may

throw upon their causes, their services, their disadvantages, and on the ways in which they may be overcome, should be generally welcome.

A

stock response, like a stock line in shoes or hats, may be a convenience. Being ready-made, it is available with less trouble than if it had to be specially made out of raw or partially prepared materials.

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

241

And may

unless an awkward misfit is going to occur, we agree that stock responses are much better than no responses at all. Indeed, an extensive repertory of stock responses is a necessity. Few minds could made if an to work out had prosper original, they to measure situation to meet that every response arose their supplies of mental energy would be too soon exhausted and the wear and tear on their nervous systems would be too great. Clearly there is an enormous field of conventional activity over which acquired, stereotyped, habitual responses properly rule, and the only question that needs *

'

to be examined as to these responses is whether they are the best that practical exigencies the range of

probable situations that may arise, the necessity of quick availability and so forth will allow. But equally clearly there are in most lives fields of activity in which stock responses, if they intervene, are disadvantageous and even dangerous, because they may get in the way of, and prevent, a response more appropriate to the situation. These unnecessary misfits may be remarked at almost every stage of the reading of poetry, but they are especially noticeable when emotional responses are in question. Let us survey a few examples to show the range of incidence of this disorder before attempting to analyse its causes. may then inquire whether it is inevitable, to what extent and by what means it might be avoided. At the humbler end of the scale, those readers who were barred out from Poem II through their stock response to cool, green house ', and those in Poem IX, show the monarch the betrayed by mechanism of the mistake very clearly. The ordinary meaning, the automatic, habitual interpretation, steps in too quickly for the context of the rest of the poem to make its peculiarities effective. Similarly, when it is a ideas intrudes the religious of that larger body and anti-religious prejudices of 7-2 and 7-21, the

We

'

Q

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

242

political leanings of 9-14 zeal of io- n, all tell the

and same

9*15, the R.S.P.C.C.

story, but they show the An idea further. ', as we are using something term here, is not a merely passive item of consciousness, dragged up by the pull of blind forces at the mercy of routine laws of association. It is rather an *

active system of feelings and tendencies which may be pictured as always straining to appear and ready

to seize shall

any opportunity of disporting itself. We understand the phenomena of stock

not

responses unless we regard them as energy systems which have the right of entry, unless some other system of greater energy can bar them out or perhaps drain their energy away from them. Fundamentally, though this is an unfair way of putting it, when any person misreads a poem it is because, as he is at that

moment he wants to. The interpretation he puts upon the words is the most agile and the most active y

interpretations that are within the of his mind. Every interpretation is possibilities motivated by some interest, and the idea that appears is the sign of these interests that are its unseen masters. When the interest is unusual in kind and its distorting

among

several

and evident, as in 10-11, we readily With stock responses where the dominating interest is excessively ordinary and no distortion may result we are more likely to effect

large

admit that

this is so.

overlook this

'

'

energetic aspect of ideas, but to remember it is the key to the whole matter. The principle that it is the most ' attractive ' reading which is adopted is often disguised, and may seem to be contradicted, for example, when a reader says that he would like to read a poem in a certain way and regrets that he cannot. But there a major his desire to read faithfully interest has overreached and controlled a more local interest. It is to be feared that this major interest is too often

dormant, and the need for

its

watchful control too

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

243

In its place an initial prepossession, little realised. the desire to find grounds for approval (or condemnation) a desire arising well ahead of any adequate justification frequently takes charge of the

whole process. A stock rhythm can be imported quite as as a stock idea, as we have, seen (8-41) and ;

easily if

we

could listen to the readings of the protocol writers it is probable that we should notice this often, but whether distortions equal to that in 3-15 are common

may be

doubted. In the cases so far cited the stock response intervenes to distort a passage whose more adequate reading develops otherwise. To the same group belong 5-37, 5*38 and 5-4 (where more traditional notions than those really present in the poem are

responsible for the effects recorded), 8-3-8-33 (where the poet is modifying conventional feelings, but his readers refuse to let him change them), and 13-1-13-4 (where several different stock sentiments replace the poem and bring discredit upon it). But the stock response can interfere in other ways. In 12-5 it is the difference between the poem and the stock poem the reader has in his mind that is the objection. Similarly in 10-44 and 11*43, deviation in the one case from a stock image of a cloud, in the other from a stock notion of an epitaph is the ground of complaint. This type of adverse criticism, objection brought to a poem for not being quite a different

poem, without regard paid ought to be less

to

what

it

is

as

itself,

common.

Poets are often guilty of it towards one another, but they have some excuse, since absorption in one kind of aim may well make a man blind to other aims. Intelligent critics,

however,

who

no poem can be judged by Yet itself, have no excuse.

realise that

standards external to

few original poems have escaped general abuse for not being more like other poems which proves

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

244

how hard

the

task

of

being

intelligent

and

a

critic is.

But a much more subtle situation involving stock responses remains to be discussed. Here instead of distorting the poem or of setting up an irrelevant external standard the stock response actually is in the poem. Poems I, IV, VII and IX, with some differences in level and degree, I believe illustrate The most correct reading this condition of affairs. of them, the reading which most accords with the impulses that gave them being, is in each case, unless I am mistaken, such that every item and every strand of meaning, every cadence and every least movement of the form is fatally and irrevocably familiar to

anyone with any acquaintance with English poetry. Furthermore this familiarity is not of the kind which passages of great poetry ever acquire, however often we may read them or however much we have them by heart. We may be weary to death of To be or not to be ', but we still know that if we were to attend to it again it could surprise us once more. '

.

.

.

The familiarity of these poems belongs to them as we first read them, it is not an acquired familiarity but native. And it implies, I think, that the mental movements out

of which they are composed have of our intellectual and emotional been parts long and that these movements are few and simple repertory and arranged in an obvious order. In other words the familiarity is a sign of their facility as stock responses. There is a contributory reason for taking this

The more we examine the poems the more we shall notice, view.

extreme impersonality

detail I

of these

believe,

their

the absence of any personal individual character either in their movement as verse or in their phrasing. The only touches of character that anyone can point to are the echoes of other poets. Each of them might well have been written by a committee. This characterlessness

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

245

1 them with appears very plainly if we compare Donne's Sonnet, where there are hardly seven words together anywhere which have not a peculiar personal Such impersonality, like the familiarity, is twist.

a sign that they are

composed of stock responses.

be recalled that these poems of the fii^t line of Poem IX) were the exception (with rather oddly immune from serious misunderstanding. With this point in view I included all the examples In addition

it

will

of misreading that occurred. Such stock poems are frequently very popular. They come home to a majority of readers with a minimum of trouble, for no new outlook, no new direction of feeling, is required. On the other hand, as we have seen, readers who have become more exigent often grow very indignant, the degree of their indignation being sometimes a measure, it may appear, of the distance they have themselves moved from the stock response and the recency of the development. But such cynical reflections are not always in place here, for these responses must evidently be judged by two partially independent their appropriateness to the sets of considerations which situations to they reply, and the degree in

which they hinder more appropriate responses from developing. There are clearly stock responses which are in both ways admirable they are right as far as they go, reasonably adequate to their situations, and they assist rather than prevent further, more refined, developments.

On

the other hand, no one

necessary experience will doubt that inappropriate stock responses are common and that they are powerful enemies to poetry. Some of the differences in origin between good and bad responses are therefore worth tracing.

with

the

Such a comparison is not an introduction of an external standard merely a means of bringing out more clearly a feature of the poems which might escape us. 1

:

it

is

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

246

If

we

we consider how responses in general

are formed,

shall see that the chief cause of ill-appropriate,

is withdrawal from experience. This can come about in many ways. Physically, as when a London child grows up without ever seeing

stereotyped reactions

the country or the sea morally, as when a particularly heavy parent deprives a child of all the adventurous expansive side of life through convention and inculcation, as when a child, being too easily persuaded what to think and to feel, develops ;

;

parasitically

;

intellectually,

as

when

insufficient

experience is theoretically elaborated into a system that hides the real world from us. These last two cases are the more interesting for our purpose here, though the effects of sheer ignorance and of such moral disasters as produce But more often, timidity are not to be overlooked. it is a too loose and easy growth in our perhaps,

responses that leads to premature fixation. Ideas, to us by others or produced from within, are a beguiling substitute for actual experience in evoking and developing our responses. An idea of soldiers for example can stay the same through innumerable repetitions our experience of actual

handed

;

The idea, as a rule, distressingly vary. the actual things may present presents one aspect can call up our idea by the mere use many. soldiers

may

;

We

And even in the presence of the Army no means certain that what we perceive will by not be as much our idea as the soldiers themselves. Since a response becomes firmer through exercise, it is clear that those among our responses that are hitched to an idea, rather than to the actual early of a word.

it.

is

particularities of the object, gain a great advantage in their struggle for survival. It behoves us, therefore, to consider very carefully what kinds of things

these ideas are, how we come extent they can be trusted.

by them and

to

what

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

An

247

we are using here, is a but it is both representation very much less and much more than a mental very replica or copy of the It is it even the most because less, thing represents. idea,

in the sense 1

elaborate idea falls short of the complexity of its object, is a sketch that is incomplete and probably It is more than a replica because besides distorts. representing the object it Represents (in a different can all observe sense) our interest in the object. of an our idea that acquaintance, for example, is It reflects in part his actual qualities, a compromise. but it also reflects our feelings some of them towards him, our tendencies to act in one way or another towards him, and these, as we well know,

We

;

as though are governed not by his real qualities only we were impartial deities but by our needs, desires, The example is typical. Pure habits and the rest. ideas, that reflect only features of the object, are to

only in some of the sciences where centuries of careful testing have reduced the effects of our partiality to a minimum. All our ordinary ideas about objects that matter to us, that are, as we say, interesting, are coloured by our emotional and

be found

We

can hardly help thinking that our nation, for example, is, on the whole, the best. Naturally enough, we are usually blind to this subjective colouring and our quickness to detect bias in other people rarely makes us ponder long upon our own. This is one of the reasons for thinking that Part II may be useful, for to imagine that a mirror stands between us and other people is certainly the most reliable means of studying relations

practical

to

them.

ourselves. 1 Whether the mental representative is an image more or less like the object representedor a word, or some other more mysterious kind of event in the mind, we need not discuss here. As a rule it is probably this latter. The author's opinions upon these matters will

be found

in

The Meaning of Meaning and, more summarily, See also Appendix A, Note 5.

Principles of Literary Criticism.

in

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

248

We direct

come by our

ideas in three main fashions by interaction with the things they represent, :

by experience by suggestion from other our own intellectual elaboration. and by people have their evident dangers, and elaboration Suggestion but are indispensable means of increasing our range that

is,

;

;

of ideas. It is necessary in practice to acquire ideas a great deal faster than r we can possibly gain the

corresponding

experience,

and

suggestibility

elaboration though we must make for our stock responses, are after

and

them responsible all

the capacities

from the brutes. Suggestion, working primarily through language, hands down to us both a good and an evil heritage. Nine-tenths, at the least, of the ideas and the annexed emotional responses that are passed on by the cinema, the press, friends to an average and relatives, teachers, the clergy child of this century are judged by the standards of poetry crude and vague rather than subtle or But the very processes by which they appropriate. are transmitted explain the result. Those who hand them on received them from their fellows. And there is always a loss in transmission which becomes more serious in proportion as what is transmitted is new, delicate and subtle, or departs in any way from what is expected. Ideas and responses which cost too much labour both at the distributing end and at the reception end both for writer and that divide us

.

reader

not

are

.

.

as every journalist of the profession do not permit their transmission ; and in any case it would be absurd to ask a million tired readers to sit down

knows.

practicable,

The economics

and work.

hard enough to get thirty tired up, behave and look bright. A very simple application of the theory of communication shows, then, that any very widespread diffusion of ideas and responses tends towards standardisation, towards a levelling down. But, as children to

It

sit

is

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

249

we have

already agreed, any responses that work, even badly, are better than none. Once the basic level has been reached, a slow climb back may be That at least is a hope that may be possible.

reasonably entertained. Meanwhile the threat to poetry in this state of affairs must be recognised.

As our

means by which subtle ideas and responses may be communicated, poetry may have chief

a part to play in the climb back. It is, at least, the most important repository of our standards. have still to consider the other influence which

We

encourages in the individual the fixation of inappropriate responses speculative elaboration divorced from experience. Thinking in the sense of a thorough to attempt compare all the aspects of an object or situation, to analyse its parts, to reconcile one with another all its various implications, to order it in one coherent intellectual fabric with everything else we know about everything connected with it is an arduous and not immediately profitable occupation. Accordingly, outside the scientific professions and endowed institutions and even within them, it is much less practised than we conventionally suppose. usually describe as thinking is a much it consists in mental exercise following out a train of ideas, a process which affords us most of the pleasures of thinking, in the stricter

What we

more

attractive

;

Such sense, without its pains and bewilderments. trains of associations may, and in the minds of men of genius often do, lead to new and valuable ideas. But accidents apart the condition for this happy result is a wide available background of relevant experience. The valuable idea is, in fact, the meeting-point, the link between separate parts of this field of experience. It unites aspects of existence that ordinarily remain unconnected, and in this lies The secret of genius is perhaps nothing its value. else than this greater availability of all experience

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

250

coupled with larger stores of experience to draw upon. The man of genius seems to take in more every minute than his duller companion, and what he has received seems to be more readily at his disposal when he needs it. This obvious description of Shakespeare seems to apply in lesser degree to other

good poets.

The man of less end&wment (I am incidentally describing many bad poets) attempting a similar

achievement with experience he has at

merely

less

experience and with what

less available, 1 is likely to arrive arbitrary results. Lacking the control

of a many-sided, still active, past experience, his momentary tendencies, desires, and impulses shape and settle his conclusions for him, and it is more likely to be the attractiveness of the idea (in the light of some particular desire) than its relevance that causes it to be adopted. It might be thought that the test of subsequent experience would lead such a man to abandon or correct the inappropriate ideas

and responses he arrives at in this arbitrary fashion. So it does in many practical matters. We all know enthusiasts who constantly have their unreal hopes and projects dashed to th ground. But attitudes and responses of the kinds with which poetry is likely to be concerned unfortunately escape this The erratic individual cannot himcorrective test. self see that his responses are inappropriate, though others might tell him. When he misreads a poem, no practical consequences arise to teach him his and, similarly, if he mismanages his emotional folly ;

relations with his fellow-beings he can readily persuade himself that they are at fault. I have been

describing a type of reader familiar to every teacher concerned with poetry whose interpretations have 1

If

we ask why one man's past experience should be

him than another man's, and so less useful desires and thoughts, the answer must be given See Chapter VI, to

to in

him

less available

guiding his terms of inhibitions. in

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

251

a quality of wilful silliness which matches well the obstinacy and conceit that are the primary traits of

Often considerable mental agility is shown, enough to support an affectation of brilliance ', but in time a striking monotony, a repetition of the same forms of response is equally

the character. *

apparent. Though fundamentally some disorder of a belated Narcissism, the self-regarding sentiment l perhaps must be at the root of these afflicting phenomena, their approximate cause is certainly withdrawal from experience through the day-dream And since milder forms of this condition habit. seem a very frequent cause of erratic reading (cf. 2-2,

6-4, 6-5,

io-ii,

7-38, 8-4, 8-45, 9-111,

10-6,

seemed worth while to attempt 11-33, 12-41, 13-51) But on the whole the characteroa rough analysis. to be logical aspects of the protocols will have it

neglected.

Enough perhaps

as to

some

of the causes of stock

inappropriate responses, whether of the standardised, or the personal- whimsy, type. The only corrective in all cases must be a closer contact with reality, either directly, through ^experience of actual things, or mediately through other minds which are in closer

contact.

measure

may

it

If good poetry owes its value in a large to the closeness of its contact with reality, thereby become a powerful weapon for

breaking up unreal ideas and responses. Bad poetry certainly can be their very helpful guardian and ally. 1

Cf. the

lines of Part II of Pope's Essay on Criticism. Of all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules

opening

;

Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools. Whatever nature has in worth denied

She gives in large recruits of needful pride For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find What wants in blood or spirits, swcll'd with wind. !

.

.

The

Trust not yourself; but, your defects to kno\v, Make use of every friend and every foe. last couplet may perhaps be taken to indicate one piece of profit

that

may be drawn from

study of the protocols.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

252

But even the best poetry, if we read into it just what to have already in our minds, and do not

we happen

means

for reorganising ourselves, does

use

it

less

good than harm.

as a

Most good

poetry, of course, resists this kind of often the emotional and intellectual but misusage, habits of the readers are too strong for the poet.

Moreover, the

official

cfoctrine

of the

eighteenth

century that True wit

What

is

nature to advantage dress 'd,

was thought, but ne'er so well express'd. The notion is still firmly entrenched in many minds. that all that a poet can do is to put strikingly, or oft

or elaborately, or euphoniously, ideas and feelings that we already possess, is so serious and frequent an obstacle to good reading, that I need not apologise for quoting from a letter I received from one of the protocol writers at about this stage in my discussion nicely,

:

Although interested in the remarks you made that your talk yesterday, I could not help " feeling was somewhat obscure about " Stock Responses The truth of the matter is, and misleading. *

.

.

.

every poem calls up stock responses, but bad poetry is poetry which touches us superficially and leads us to take the response for granted. Thus in reading Gray's Elegy we are prepared to have certain feelings about life and I think, that

1

death stirred up within us. Nor are we disappointed, for we find at the end of the poem that we have genuinely been moved as we expected, and the stock response to Churchyard scenery has been drawn out of us, as it were, and given a chance to expatiate. But in Poem XIII on your We expect 1 the sheet, the process is different. Compare Seami Motokiyo on one of the 'secrets' of the No

'The "flower" consists in forcing on the audience an emotion which they do not expect.' Waley, The No Plays of Japan, p. 47.

IRRELEVANT ASSOCIATIONS AND STOCK RESPONSES

253

stock responses to thoughts on Death to be drawn out, but in reality they are not, since the poet does

not touch us deeply enough to do so. However we take the drawing-out of these responses for granted, and it is not until we read the poem through a second or third time that we find we have been deceived '.

My

correspondent's account does peculiarly fit the of which Dr Johnson well wrote The ChurchElegy which find a mirror in with abounds images yard and with sentiments to which every mind, every bosom returns an echo ', though it is doubtful whether mirror is a word which the lexicographer would, on reflection, have here retained. The Elegy is perhaps the best example in English of a good poem These built upon a foundation of stock responses. are of the kind which we granted responses *

:

*

*

indeed insisted

may be

above,

admirable, perfectly

appropriate as far as they go and responses which may go further.

no hindrance to But these stock

* the Elegy ; though its responses do not exhaust extreme familiarity may blind us to the peculiarities of tone and sequence of feeling that it contains the qualities in the poem that belong to Gray, not to the common stock from which it develops. And we have only to open Hardy's poems at almost any page the stock response to to discover that besides Churchyard scenery there are many other possible Furthermore, as with other good poems responses. so even with the Elegy the interpretations of good readers will vary appreciably with their varied minds. '

'

,

No

'

one can say, There is only this and this in the poem and nothing more '. There is everything l

All that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Awaits alike the inevitable hour.

Between the stock response to these lines which may be rendered by How sad and the response of Gautama Buddha, there is evidently room for many other responses, some of a stock pattern and some not.

4

'

!

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

254

there which a reader who starts right and keeps in But minds a balanced contact with reality can find. to their fixed own stock too much subjugated responses will find nothing new, will only enact once more pieces from their existing repertory. Better The shock of disthis than nothing perhaps.

covering

whatever

how alive with new aspects when contact with reality is

is

everything restored is

anaesthetising to minds that have lost their capacity it stupefies and bewilders. to reorganise themselves is all disconcerting, for a moment Nearly good poetry ;

at least,

when we

first

see

it

for

what

it

is.

Some

dear habit has to be abandoned if we are to follow it. Going forwards we are likely to find that other habitual responses, not directly concerned, seem less In the turmoil of disturbed routines satisfactory. that may ensue, the mind's hold on actuality is tested. Great poetry, indeed, is not so safe a toy as the conventional view supposes. But these indirect effects of even a of the overthrow few stock attitudes and ideas is the hope of those who think humanity may venture to improve itself. And the belief that on the whole and accidents apart finer, subtler, more appropriate responses are

more

efficient,

economical,

and advantageous than crude ones, is the best ground for a moderate optimism that the world-picture presents.

CHAPTER

VI

-

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION May the tears of sympathy crystallise as they pearls in the bosom of our affections.

fall

and be worn as

Nineteenth Century Commercial Travellers

Toast.

AMONG

the politer terms of abuse there are few so sentimental '. Not very long ago the word silly was fairly useful for this purpose. The most intelligent would wince, the less intelligent would become angry, and the stupid would grow indignant if they, or views dear to their hearts, were so described the three shades of feeling corre'

effective as

'

'

sponding perhaps to a suspicion, a fear, and an absolute certainty as to there not being something in But since Bergsonism began its insidious dryit. rot-like invasion of contemporary intellectualism the word silly has lost some of its sting. Nowadays the accusation of sentimentality is more annoying '

*

than any slur cast upon our capacity as thinkers, for our moral capital is invested in our feelings rather than in our thoughts.

The very fact that it is so annoying suggests that sentimental though often it may mean something of definition may be also, like and capable precise an insulting gesture, the vehicle of another kind of that it is sometimes not so much the utterance instrument of a statement as an expression of contempt. Such an expression cannot, of course, be defined as though it were a scientific term. Given the occasion and the speakers we can describe the feelings the word excites and the attitudes from '

'

;

255

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

256

which it springs. But there we have to leave the is doubtless sentimental rubbish matter. And more often than not a mere phrase of abuse. Compare the phrase damn nonsense \ The logician or the expert in definitions would waste his time trying to assign a precise scope to the adjective in either case. But sentimental may be more than a piece of '

*

*

'

'

abuse, an emotive gesture. It may be a description, may stand for a vague idea, or for any one of several and two of these are extremely precise ideas important. So important that there is no need to be is one of the most oversurprised if sentimental worked words in the whole vocabulary of literary Its frequency, its twofold use, as an criticism. insult and as a description, its fogginess in the second capacity and its social significance in the first are all Poems IV sufficiently evidenced in the protocols. ;

*

'

to a lesser degree, Poems II and XIII our most instructive examples. But us with provide before examining these in detail we must attempt

and VIII and,

some

and elucidations. aside abusive use of sentimental as the Setting a mere gesture indicating little more than dislike, let us reflect first upon the vaguer senses of the word. often use it to say only that there is something wrong in the feelings involved by the thing, whatever And we do not it is, which we call sentimental. to what is specify attempt wrong. Using a vague definitions

'

'

We

thought like this has been happily compared by Bertrand Russell to aiming at a target with a lump of putty. The putty spreads out, and we have a good chance of bespattering the bull's-eye with some of it. But it will spread over the rings too. A precise thought is more like a bullet. We can perhaps hit with it just what we want to hit and nothing else, but we are much more likely to miss altogether. Vague thoughts are best sometimes economise labour and are easier to follow, they they ;

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION have their obvious uses in* poetry purpose we need more precise ones.

The

first

of these

easy to state.

is

;

257

but for this

A

person

may

be said to be sentimental when his emotions are too As we all easily stirred, too light on the trigger. know to our cost the trigger adjustment for the feelings varies with

all

manner of odd circumstances.

'

the l5rave music of a distant these and many other extraneous factors can make our emotions too facile. The lover of the bottle in his maudlin stage is a famous sentimentalist. Certain rhythms as in the case of the brass band above mentioned and sounds of a certain quality, perhaps through their the trumpet and the nightingale, for associations all these readily facilitate emotional orgies. example So do certain conditions of mass suggestion. Rewe often have to blush for our unions, processions we escape from the crowd. when sentimentality Most remarkable of all, perhaps, are some effects of I reluctantly recall that the last time I had illness. influenza a very stupid novel filled my eyes with tears again and again until I could not see the pages. Influenza is thought by many to be a disorder of the autonomic nervous system, and if this be so, there would be nothing surprising in this effect. All our emotional susceptibilities may be more or less affected, but the results are most marked with those which we can luxuriate in, those which do not

Drugs, the weather,

drum

',

fatigue, illness

;

obviously endanger our self-esteem.

This

last factor is

Some

one in which individuals vary

amazingly. people regard indulgence in the as always creditable, and tender emotions and they wallow in them so greedily that one is forced to regard them as emotionally starved. Others are apt to think about these emotions as Alexander Bain, the once celebrated author of The Emotions and the Will thought about kissing (he called it osculation). soft

y

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

258

"

The

the

", he said, rare ". actuality

occasion

But what it

is

this

"

should be adequate and

adequate occasion and what makes

?

adequate Postponing consideration of this awkward problem, let us first trace these differences in emotional susceptibility, in the touchiness of the feelings, ark very noticeable as between The child often infancy, maturity, and old age. appears singularly unfeeling, so does the overexperienced adult.

a

little

further.

No

They

more, no more,

The Which

O

never more on

freshness of the heart will

me

fall like

dew,

out of all the lovely things we see Extracts emotions beautiful and new

as Byron wrote. The point expressed in the last word will also have to be considered later. In between the infant and the adult come the adolescents, who, as is well known, are regarded both by their juniors and their seniors as sentimentalists in excelsis.

The girl

of twelve is apt to think her seventeen-yearold sister very sloppy '. As we shall see, there may be several reasons for this phenomenon. In old age, sometimes, but not always, a return of heightened emotional susceptibility takes place. Sentimental here applies to persons. It means that they are too susceptible, the flood-gates of their emotions too *

'

'

easily raised.

This then gives us a precise, though very general, sense for

response occasion.

'

is

A

sentimental ', a quantitative sense. sentimental if it is too great for the

We

cannot, obviously, judge that any response is sentimental in this sense unless we take careful account of the situation. Another sense, of which this is not true, is that in which sentimental crude '. is equivalent to A crude emotion, as opposed to a refined emotion, can be set off by all manner of situations, whereas '

'

*

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION

259

a refined emotion is one that can only be aroused by a narrow range of situations. Refined emotions are like sensitive instruments they reflect slight changes in the situations which call them forth. The ;

distinction

is

parallel

in several

ways

to the

dis-

made above between vague and precise thoughts. Though refined responses are capable of much more appropriateness than crude ones, they are much more likely to go astray, as super-subtle folk often show us. On the other hand, though crude tinction

emotions are less likely to go altogether wrong, they are less likely to go entirely right, if we judge them by high standards of rightness. Neither crudeness nor refinement need imply anything about the they are qualitative not intensity of the emotion crude emotion need not characters. quantitative be intense, nor a refined one feeble. It is true, however, that the most violent emotions are usually crude. Terror and rage, as we all know, are apt,

A

once they are aroused, to spread and apply themAnd while intensity is under discussion one further point may be noted. Violence of emotion, though much popular criticism seems to assume so, does not necessarily imply value. Poems which are very moving may be negligible or bad. It is the quality rather than the violence which selves to anything.

'

*

matters.

As Wordsworth wrote, The Gods approve The depth, and not the

We may reflects

tumult, of the soul.

suspect that to-day the demand for violence some poverty, through inhibition, in the

everyday emotional life. In Elizabethan times a perhaps not analogous demand could not, however, admit of this explanation. One more sense of sentimental requires definition before we can turn to consider when accusations of '

sentimentality are justified and

'

when they

are not.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

260

This sense derives from the psychologists' use of the A sentiment in his terminology is '. not an experience in the way that an emotion, a pain, the sight of something, an image, and a thought, are It is not a momentary thing but experiences. '

word sentiment

a more or less permanent arrangement in the mind a group of tendencies towards certain thoughts and emotions organised around a central object. Love, for example, is a sentiment, if by love we mean, not a particular experience lasting certain minutes or hours, but a set of tendencies to behave in certain ways, to think certain thoughts, to feel certain emotions, in connection with a person. Sentiments can be very complex love includes a tendency to feel resentful towards anyone who annoys the loved sentiment, in brief, is a perperson, and so on. sisting, organised system of dispositions. Sentiments, in this sense, are formed in us through our past experience in connection with the central They are the result of our past interest in object. the object. For this reason they are apt to persist even when our present interest in the object is changed. For example, a schoolmaster that we discover in later life to have been always a quite unimportant and negligible person may still retain something of his power to overawe us. Again the :

;

A

object itself may change, yet our sentiment towards not as it was but as it is may so much remain the

it

same

that

it

becomes inappropriate.

we may go on

living in a certain

motor

has

made

For example, house although

there almost the Conversely, though insupportable. object is just what it was, our sentiment towards it may completely change through a strange and little understood influence from other sentiments of later growth. The best example is the pathetic and terrible change that can too often be observed in the sentiments entertained towards the War by men who suffered from it increase in

traffic

life

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION

261

it to the extremist degree while it was After only ten years they sometimes seem raging. not so bad ', and a to feel that after all it was told a gathering of ComBrigadier-General recently rades of the Great War that they must agree that it was the happiest time of their lives '. A familiar parallel example is the illusion so many middle-aged

and hated

*

'

men

entertain that they enjoyed their school-days, when in fact they were then acutely wretched. I shall use these two forms of distortion to define a third sense of sentimental as follows response is sentimental when, either through the overpersistence of tendencies or through the interaction '

'

:

of sentiments,

it is

A

inappropriate to the situation that

becomes inappropriate, as a rule, either by confining itself to one aspect only of the many that the situation can present, or by substituting for it a factitious, illusory situation that may,

calls

it

forth.

It

in extreme cases, have hardly anything in common with it. We can study these extreme cases in dreams

and

in asylums.

Let us now apply these three definitions to some of the accusations of sentimentality contained in the protocols. With the first two senses however the quantitative sense and the crudeness sense an obvious ambiguity remains that must first be disposed When we apply the word to a human product, a poem for example, we may mean either of two things which we hardly ever distinguish, or we may of.

mean both. If we would more often distinguish them we should avoid many mistakes and some needless injustice.

We may mean

to take Sense

One

that the

poem

was the product of a mind which was too

easily stirred to emotion, that it came about through facile Or feelings, that the author was himself sentimental.

that we should be too easily moved, we should ourselves be sentimental, if we allowed our

we may mean

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

262

own emotions less,

a vigorous outing.

Sometimes doubt-

both these assertions are true, but often

only entitled to make the second. has been said about sincerity in

Poem VII,

Now

let

mind.

we

are

(Compare what connection with

p. 95, and Poem VIII, p. 114.) us consider Poem IV with this distinction

We

must, of course, not read the verses a piece of imaginative sociology such as Zola dreamed of. It is not an attempt by a novelist to render realistically the stock thoughts and feelings and the diction of a girl without poetic ability, expressing herself in verse. (But cf. 4-1, 4-3.) have to take it, in the usual way that lyrical, emotional verse is taken, as a semi-dramatic utterance not in

,

as

We

to

inviting ironical contemplation merits as poetry.

This problem of approach '

here.

Sentimentality

mental tranquillity as

a

gloss,

'

(4- 1)

be judged on

its

especially relevant recollected in very sentiis

with the rest of the protocol

seems to accuse the author (perhaps

with the heroine of the poem) of over-production of emotion (Sense One) and x suggests further a cause for this excess namely, preoccupation with the emotion for its own sake New rather than with the situation occasioning it. emotions as Byron hints in the verse quoted above easily divert attention to themselves. Very few people, for example, fall in love for the first time without becoming enthralled by their emotions merely as a novel experience. They become absorbed in them often to the exclusion of genuine interest in the loved object. Similarly those who are disfor the first time that poetry can cause covering identified, improperly,

:

them emotion do little

often, for this very reason, pay attention to the poetry. Writers too, who find

1

Not, of course, an excess in the feeling ascribed to the girl, but an excess of the author's sympathetic emotion or of our sympathetic motion.

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION that they can imagine feelings words, may readily become occupation, as a kind of game,

263

and express them in fascinated by this and lose sight of the

We

sanctions of the feelings in experience. may easily work the feelings up for their own sake, forgetting intermittently what the feelings are like in our eagerness to hang J:hem on to the forms of real

expression which occur to us. Seeing a chance to a violent emotional make effect, we forget whether this is the effect we desire. Both the accusation and the suggestion as to the source of the excess feeling seem justified here. The antitheses, so much praised (4-22, 4-24) and so much disliked (4-23, 4-31), the rhymes, and the structure, do seem to indicate that and conveniences of expression have led

mechanical facilities

feeling, rather than that feeling has dictated expresAs to the excess of feeling over its justification sion.

in the actual situation presented by the poem, we a misconception which though

must beware of

obviously a mistake is none the less insidious. If we separate out the subject or theme of the

A

girl bewailing her lost or absent lover, and take this, abstractly, as the situation, we may think that it sounds sufficient to justify any extremity of sympathetic emotion. But this abstracted theme is nothing in itself, and might be the basis of any one of as many different developments as there are kinds It cannot in itself be an excuse for any of girls. emotion. If the mere fact that some girl somewhere is thus lamenting were an occasion for emotion, into what convulsions ought not the evening paper to throw us nightly ? This is obvious, but there is reason to think that very many people are ready to situation merely at react emotionally to a pathetic this level of abstractness, provided it is put before them in some kind of metre and, if so, such reactions are ' in the sense of excessive. sentimental certainly

poem,

'

*

;

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

264

The situation evidently has to be something more It is the poet's business to present it concrete. not necessarily apart from his presentation of the emotion. He will usually be presenting both together through the same words. Here, since the girl is speaking herself, every word, every cadence, every of thought and feeling is transitiorj

movement and

part of the situation.

we may

Is the ask two questions. situation so given concrete enough, near enough to us, and coherent enough to justify the vigorous emotional response invited from us ? And is it, in its concreteness, nearness and coherence so far as they go, of the kind to which this response is appropriate ? (I am not saying that nearness, concreteness and coherence are required in all poetry this would be an illegitimate technical presupposition. But I am saying that if certain effects are aimed at, m* certain methods are thereby prescribed.) On the first question 4-23, 4-25 and 4-31 forcibly present the adverse opinion, though as we have seen in Chapter IV we must be careful in applying the rhythm test. (4*25 seems, however, here to be justified in the rhythm he ascribes to the verses.) These writers, in contrast to 4-11, 4-24 or 4-52, seem to be responding to the situation as actually presented by the poet not to situations they have imagined for him or to the trappings and catchwords of romance in which he has decked out the verses. These decorations by their conventional quality raise all the problems reviewed in the last chapter. That they were the source of the poem's great popularity is not to be doubted. Equally evident is the great danger of snobbery whenever such questions arise. That a metaphor is conventional and familiar is not, of course, in itself sufficient ground for objection, though it is often enough the whole explanation of the complaint. Similarly, if the

This being

so,

'

'

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION

265

situation and emotion were ordinary, simple and familiar (as 4-3 suggests), that in itself would be no bar to merit, provided the emotion were properly founded in the situation. (Compare Gray's Elegy.} To suppose otherwise would be a very stupid kind

of emotional snobbery. Or if lack of skill in the author were the cause of the conventional metaphors,

would be no ground for indignation. But the borrowed, second-hand, quality of the expression

that again if

In slavish habit,

Oreworn and

ill-fitted

weeds

soild

not merely neediness or carelessness, but a similar second-hand, reach-me-down, quality in the thing expressed, then the vigour of some of the rejections is excused. These reflections apply to the concreteness and nfamess we are looking for in the poem. ConvenTOnal metaphors tend to fail in both characters, a tendency not avoided here. But they apply still more to the coherence that is required. Borrowed decorations and here is the gravest objection to their use The various are almost always irrelevant. items do not hang together, and their combined effect, if any, is likely to be crude in the sense discussed above. Here, for example, the sunshine and dog-roses of verse three have somehow to adjust themselves to the winter and the wailing of the wind in verse two, and the idly circulating wind of the in the pages has from which blown years ', possibly of Swinburne, 1 has to whisper above this wailing. (Such incoherences are characteristic of conventional verse only a very intent concentration of the poet's reflects,

'

'

'

;

imaginative faculties can prevent them. In themselves they need not be destructive (cf. Ch. II), but It may also be suggested that the phrase 'life lies Forsaken Garden. possibly an echo of Swinburne's 1

A

dead*

is

PRACTICAL CRITICISM they are a very useful corroboration if we suspect on other grounds that the central impulse of a poem is weak.) By the time these incoherent items have pooled their effects the response can hardly here be anything but crude an undirected, objectless feeling of pathos that will attach itself to anything that will give it an excuse to the caravan bells of Hassan (4-52), for

example.

The emotion,

in fact,

which

this

poem can

excite

(and on which its popularity depends) is easily enjoyed for its own sake, regardless of its object or prompting situation. Most people will not find it difficult, if they so desire, to sit down by the fireside and concoct a precisely similar emotion without the assistance of any poem whatever merely by saying Oh to themselves in various tones of sadness, It is an emotion that regret and tremulous hope. !

we

tend, if we indulge it at all, to luxuriate in, as 4-1 remarks. Hence the pow er of these verses to divide readers sharply into two camps. Passing now to Poem VIII, accusations of sentimentality in the first and third of our senses appear most instructively. The charge of excessive emotional response, too light a trigger adjustment for the feelings, is coupled with the suggestions that the poet is revelling in emotion for its own sake (8-1), positively wallowing in a warm bath of soapy sentiment seems to love feeling (8-12), that he r

'

'

'

'

'

'

'

sobby (8-41), and that he is trying to get effects the whole time as explanations of this (8-44) '

of feeling. As a rule the complainants demonstrate satisfactorily that they have mistaken the situation to which the emotion is a response. It is music in the poet's miseries general for 8-12, for 8- 1 1, his 'pure, spotless childhood' and his world- worn wretch' for 8-41. present state as a excess

'

'

*

And as a result of these mistakes the characters of the emotions these writers attributed to the poem

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION

267

equally irrelevant. The moral again is that before we can decide whether a poem is or is not sentimental in this sense we must be sure that we know both what the presented situation is and what response is invited. Only the very closest reading will tell us enough about either to make judgment worth while. The charge of sentimentality in our third sense raises a more complicated issue, for the poem is itself clearly a study of a border-line case, and, if not read more carefully than, for example, by 8*3, or 8-31, is likely to be disastrous in its emotional effects. There is, it is true, a mawkish sentiment with which we so often think of childhood and one's loose emotion does as easily attach itself to old Sunday the cosy parlour and the evenings at home ', or the vista of years as to the chimney-nook wind of the years '. But the danger, the appalling risk*' (8-5) of arousing only these emotions need not frighten the poet away from such topics if he can 1 give enough nearness, concreteness and coherence to the situation to support and control the response that ensues. Or if he can build these dangerous are

*

'

'

;

'

'

'

'

'

'

'

'

'

*

elements into a whole response which completes and frees them. For what is bad in these sentimental is confinement to one stereotyped, their responses unrepresentative aspect of the prompting situation. This brings us to the subject of inhibitions. Most, if not all, sentimental fixations and distortions of feeling are the result of inhibitions, and often when

we

discuss sentimentality we are looking at the wrong side of the picture. If a man can only think of his

childhood as a

lost

heaven

it is

probably because he

other aspects. contrive to look back to the War as afraid to think of

is

1

am

And '

a

those

who

good time/

not recommending nearness, concreteness and coherence as avoidance of sentimentality. All depends upon what that is brought near, what is concrete and what coheres.

I

specifics for the it is

its

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

268

are probably busy dodging certain other memories. is curiously quantitative in some of its in one direction seems undue curtailment operations to imply excess in an opposite direction. Inhibition, in due place and degree, is, of course, a necessity for mental activity quite as much a necessity as exercise.

The mind

;

I think, who once described Time as the resistance resistance namely against everything Without inhibition everything happening at once in the mind would happen at once, which is tantamount to saying that nothing would happen or that Chaos would return. All order and proportion is the result of inhibition, we cannot indulge one

It

was Bergson,

!

mental activity without inhibiting others. Therefore the opinion sometimes emitted that all inhibition (or repression) is bad, is at the least an overstatement. What is unfortunate is the permanent curtailment of our possibilities as human beings, the blanking out, through repeated and maintained inhibition, of aspects of experience that our mental health requires us sometimes to envisage. As a rule the source of such inhibitions is some painfulness attaching to the aspect of life that we The sentimental response refuse to contemplate. steps in to replace this aspect by some other aspect more pleasant to contemplate or by some factitious There are object which flatters the contemplator. innumerable cross-currents of motive here which may conceal from us what we are doing. The man who, in reaction to the commoner naive forms of sentimentality, prides himself upon his hardheadedness and hard-heartedness, his hard-boiledness generally, and seeks out or invents aspects with a bitter or squalid character, for no better reason only displaying a more sophisticated Fashion, of course, is sentimentality. for of these secondary twists. responsible many Indeed the control of Society over our sentiments,

than

this,

form

of

is

SENTIMENTALITY AND INHIBITION

-

269

over our publicly avowable sentiments, is remarkably efficient. Compare, for example, the attitudes to tears (especially to masculine tears) approved by the eighteenth and twentieth centuries. Very little reflection and inquiry will show conclusively that the eighteenth century in regarding a profuse discharge of the lachrymal glands as a proper and almost necessary accompaniment of tender and sorrowful emotion was much more representative of humanity in all ages than are our contemporary wooden-eyed The current attitude naturally appeared in stoics. the protocols (8-52, 8-6, 8-61). Even Poem VIII itself shows it, for an eighteenth-century writer would

have

A

no need

to fight against such widespread general inhibition of felt

an emotion.

all the simpler of emotion (not only of its expansive developments has be to expression) recognised among our educated It is a new condition not easily paralleled population.

in history,

convention

and though

it is

propagated through social

deeper causes are not easy to divine. To put it down, as many have done, to the excesses of the Victorians, is only to show an ignorance of the generations that preceded them. Possibly it is due to the increasing indefiniteness of our beliefs and disbeliefs, to the blurring of the moral background of our lives, but such speculations would take us too far. Whatever its cause, the fact that so many readers are afraid of free expansive emotion, even when the situation warrants it, is important. It leads them, as Poem VIII showed, to suspect and avoid situations its

may awaken

strong and shallowness and trivial produces And it leaves those response. growths that escape the taboo too that

*

simple feeling. It complexity in their sentimental over'

free a field for their

The only safe cure for semi-surreptitious existence. a mawkish attachment to an illusory childhood heaven, for example, is to take the distorted sentiment and work it into close and living relation with some

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

2 70

scene concretely and truthfully realised, which may act as a standard of reality and awaken the dreamThis infected object of the sentiment into actuality. is the treatment by expansion, and Poem VIII may stand as an example of how it may be done. The other, more practised, form of treatment which we apply to sentimentalists treatment through sneers, through realism ', through caustics, the attempt by various means not to enlarge the canalised response, but to destroy it or dry it up is ineffective, and may lead only to increased impoverishment. For the curse of sentimentality in the third sense is not that its victims have too much feeling at their disposal, but that they have too little, that they see life in too specialised a fashion and respond to it too narrowly. The sentimentalist, in brief, is not distributing his interest widely enough, and is distributing it in too few forms. '

CHAPTER

VII

*

DOCTRINE IN POETRY Logic is the ethics of thinking, in the sense in which ethics is the bringing to bear of self-control, for the purpose of realising our desires.

CHARLKS SAUNDKRS PIERCE.

WITH most

of our critical difficulties what we have had to explain is how mistakes come to be so frequent. But here we are in the opposite case, we have to For it would explain how they come to be so rare. seem evident that poetry which has been built upon firm and definite beliefs about the world, The Divine Comedy or Paradise Lost, or Donne's Divine Poems, or Shelley Prometheus Unbound, or Hardy's The Dynasts must appear differently to readers who do and readers who do not hold similar beliefs. Yet in fact most readers, and nearly all good readers, are very little disturbed by even a direct opposition between their own beliefs and the beliefs of the poet. Lucretius and Virgil, Euripides and Aeschylus, we currently '

,

assume, are equally accessible, given the necessary scholarship, to a Roman Catholic, to a Buddhist and to a confirmed sceptic. Equally accessible in the sense that these different readers, after due study, may respond in the same way to the poetry and arrive at similar judgments about it. And when they differ, their divergencies will commonly not be a result of their different positions with regard to the doctrines * of the authors, but are more likely to derive from 1 I am not accusing these authors of doctrinal poetry in the narrow sense of verse whose sole object is to teach. But that a body of doctrine is presented by each of these poets, even by Virgil, can hardly escape any reader's notice.

271

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

272

other causes

in their

temperaments and personal

experience.

have instanced religious poetry because the concerned have the widest implications, and are the most seriously entertained of any. But with the same problem arises with nearly all poetry such with supernatural mythology very evidently machinery as appears in The Rime of the Ancient I

beliefs there

;

;

Manner

:

The horned Moon, with one bright Within the nether tip,

star

but equally, though less with Blake's manifestoes with every passage which seems to make obtrusively, a statement, or depend upon an assumption, that ;

a reader may dissent from without, thereby giving proof of mental derangement. It is essential to recognise that the problem 1 is

the

same whether the possible stumbling-block, the

point of dissent, be trivial or important. When the point is trivial, we easily satisfy ourselves with an explanation in terms of poetic fictions '. When it is a matter of no consequence whether we assent or dissent, the theory that these disputable statements, so constantly presented to us in poetry, are merely assumptions introduced for poetic purposes, seems an adequate explanation. And when the the statements, for example, Homer's account of of the are monkey-shines Olympian troupe ', frankly incredible, if paraded solemnly before the bar of reasoned judgment, the same explanation applies. But as the assumptions grow more plausible, and as the consequences for our view of the world grow important, the matter seems less simple. Until, in the end, with Donne's Sonnet (Poem ///), for example, it becomes very difficult not to think that actual c

*

1 A supplementary and fuller discussion of this whole matter will be found in Principles of Literary Criticism, Ch. XXXII-XXXV, where difficulties, which here must be passed by, are treated in detail.

DOCTRINE IN POETRY belief in the doctrine that

273

appears in the

poem

is

and perfect imaginative realisation. The mere assumption of Donne's theology, as a poetic fiction, may seem insufficient in view of the intensity of the feeling which is supported and conveyed to us by its means. It is at least certain, required for

its full

as the protocols show (3-15, 5-42, 5-37, 5-38, 7-21), that many who try to read religious poetry find themselves strongly invited to the beliefs presented, and that doctrinal dissent is a very serious obstacle to their reading. Conversely, many successful but find themselves in a mental readers dissenting attitude towards the doctrine which, if it is not belief, closely

Yet

if

resembles

belief.

assumption,

'

'

we suppose

that, beyond this mere poetic a definite state of belief in this particular

doctrine of the Resurrection of the Body is required for a full reading of Donne's poem, great difficulties at once arise. shall have to suppose that readers who hold different beliefs incompatible with this particular doctrine must either not be able to read

We

poem, or must temporarily while reading it abandon their own beliefs and adopt Donne's. Both suppositions seem contrary to the facts, though these are matters upon which certainty is hazardous. We shall do better, however, to examine the poetic fiction ', or assumption, theory more closely and see whether when fully stated it is capable of meeting the

'

the complaint of inadequacy noticed above. In the first place the very word assumption is unsuitable here. Ordinarily an assumption is a proposition, an object of thought, entertained intellectually in order to trace its logical consequences as a hypothesis. But here we are concerned very little with logical consequences and almost exIn the effect clusively with emotional consequences. of the thought upon our feelings and attitudes, all its importance, for poetry, lies. But there are *

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

274

two ways

clearly

in

which we may entertain an

intellectually, that is in a context of assumption other thoughts ready to support, contradict, or and emotionestablish other logical relations with it :

;

a context of sentiments, feelings, desires and attitudes ready to group themselves around it. Behind the intellectual q?sumption stands the desire for logical consistency and order in the receptive side of the mind. But behind the emotional assumption stands the desire or need for order of the whole outgoing emotional side of the personality, the side ally, in

that

is

turned towards action.

Corresponding to this distinction there are two forms of belief and similarly two forms of disbelief. Intellectual belief more resembles a weighting of an idea than anything else, a loading 1 which makes other, less heavily weighted, ideas, adjust themselves The loading may be to it rather than vice versa.

the quantity of evidence, its immediacy, legitimate the extent and complexity of the supporting systems of ideas are obvious forms of legitimate loading or it may be illegitimate ; our liking for the idea, its brilliance, the trouble that changing it may involve, emotional satisfactions from it, are illegiti;

:

mate

-from the standpoint of intellectual belief be it The whole use of intellectual belief is

understood.

to bring all our ideas into as perfect an ordered disbelieve only because we system as possible.

We

that is incompatible, as something out. Spinoza long ago pointed Similarly, we perhaps because believe it is only necessary to disbelieve whatever is logically contradictory to our belief.

believe

else

Neither belief nor disbelief sense, unless

the

arises, in this intellectual

logical context of our ideas

is

in

1 To introspection this loading seems like a feeling of trust or trustworthiness. 'side' with the belief intellectually, and though traditionally belief has been discussed along with judgment it is, as William James pointed out, more allied to choice.

We

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

275

Apart from these logical connections the neither believed nor disbelieved, nor doubted

question.

idea

is

Most of the it is ; just present. ideas of the child, of primitive man, of the peasant, of the non-intellectual world and of most poetry are in this happy condition of real intellectual disconnection. Emotional belief is a v*Jry different matter. In nor questioned

as innumerable observers have idea which opens a ready outlet to remarked, any emotion or points to a line of action in conformity remain much with custom is quickly believed. more primitive in this phase of our behaviour than in intellectual matters. Given a need 1 (whether conscious as a desire or not), any idea which can be taken as a step on the way to its fulfilment is accepted, unless some other need equally active at the moment bars it out. This acceptance, this use of the idea by our interests, desires, feelings, attitudes, tendencies So far to action and what not is emotional belief. as the idea is useful to them it is believed, and the sense of attachment, of adhesion, of conviction, which we feel, and to which we give the name of belief, is the result of this implication of the idea

man,

primitive

We

in our activities.

Most

have any strength or persistence are mixtures of intellectual and emotional A purely intellectual belief need have little belief. strength, no quality of conviction about it, for unless beliefs, of course, that

very original and contrary to received ideas, loading to hold its own. When we find a modern physicist, for example, passionately attached to a particular theory, we may suspect the idea it

is

needs

little

1 I use 'need' here to stand for an imbalance mental or physical, a tendency, given suitable conditions, for a movement towards an end-state of equilibrium. A swinging pendulum might thus be said to be actuated by a need to come to rest, and to constantly overdo its movements towards that end. We are much more like pendulums than we think, though, of course, our imbalances are infinitely more

intricate.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

276

illegitimate loading, his reputation is perhaps involved in its acceptance. Conversely, a very strong emotional

Last night's belief may have little persistence. revelation grows dim amid this morning's affairs, for the need which gave it such glamorous reality was only a need of the moment. Of this kind are most of the revelations received from poetry and music. But though the sense of revelation has faded, we should not suppose that the shaping influence of

such experiences must be lost. The mind has found through them a pattern of response which may remain, and it is this pattern rather than the revelation which is important. The great difference between these two kinds of belief, as I have defined them, appears most plainly if we consider what justification amounts to for each. Whether an intellectual belief is justified is entirely a matter of its logical place in the largest, most completely ordered, system of ideas we can attain to. Now the central, most stable, mass of our ideas has already an order and arrangement fixed for it by the facts of Nature. We must bring our ideas of these facts into correspondence with

And

them or we

this order

among the everypromptly perish. of facts our surroundings determines the day of yet another system of our ideas": arrangement namely, physical theory. These ideas are thereby weighted beyond the power of irreconcilable ideas to disturb them. Anyone who understands them cannot help believing in them, and disbelieving intellectually in irreconcilable

ideas, provided that he brings them close enough together to perceive

their irreconcilability. There are obviously countless in poetry which, if put into this logical

ideas

context,

But

must be disbelieved

at once.

does not imply that emotional belief in the same idea is either impossible or even difficult much less that it is undesirable. this intellectual disbelief

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

277

For an emotional belief is not justified through any logical relations between its idea and other ideas. Its only justification is its success in meeting our needs due regard being paid to the relative claims of our many needs one against another. It is a matter, to put it simply, of the prudence (in view of all the needs of our being) ,of the kind of emotional activities the belief subserves.

The

desirability or

undesirability of an emotional belief has nothing to do with its intellectual status, provided it is kept

w ith

the intellectual system. And poetry is an extraordinarily successful device for preventing these interferences from arising. a willing Coleridge, when he remarked that of disbelief much suspension accompanied poetry, was noting an important fact, but not quite in the happiest terms, for we are neither aware of a disbelief nor voluntarily suspending it in these cases. It is better to say that the question of belief or disbelief, in the intellectual sense, never arises when we are reading well. If unfortunately it does arise, either through the poet's fault or our own, we have for the moment ceased to be reading poetry and have become astronomers, or theologians, or moralists,

from

r

interfering

'

'

persons engaged in quite a different type of activity. But a possible misconception must be noted here The intellectual exploration of the internal coherence of the poem, and the intellectual examination of the relations of its ideas to other ideas of ordinary experience which are emotionally relevant to it, are not only permissible but necessary in the reading of much poetry, as we saw in connection with the seaharp in Poem IX, and in connection with the sentimentality and stock-response problems of Poems

IV, VIII and XIII.

But

this restricted intellectual

a different thing from the all-embracing inquiry to systematise our ideas which alone brings attempt the up problem of intellectual belief. is

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

278

We

can

now

from which

turn back to

this

many readers who

Poem

III, to the point There are started. long analysis feel a difficulty in giving to Donne's

theology just that kind of acceptance, and no more, that they give to Coleridge's star within the nether tip '. They feel an invitation to accord to the poem that belief in its ideas ^yhich we can hardly help supposing to have been, in Donne's mind, a powerful '

influence over its shaping. These readers may, perhaps, be content if we insist that the fullest possible emotional belief is fitting and desirable. At the same time there are many who are unable to accord intellectual belief to these particular theological Such readers may feel that a threatened tenets. is not thereby denied them. The fact that liberty Donne probably gave both forms of belief to these ideas need not, I think, prevent a good reader from giving the fullest emotional belief while withholding intellectual belief, or rather while not allowing the question of intellectual belief to arise. The evidence is fragmentary upon the point, largely because it has been so strangely little discussed. But the very fact that the need to discuss it has not insistently arisen

seeing

how many

people from how many different have been able to agree about

intellectual positions

the value of such doctrinal poems points strongly in this direction. The absence of intellectual belief need not cripple emotional belief, though evidently enough in some persons it may. But the habit of attaching emotional belief only to intellectually ideas

certified

is

strong

in

some people

;

it

is

encouraged by some forms

it is of education; of the increased perhaps becoming, through prestige 1 For those whom it conquers science, more common.

means

it

c

Good-bye

to poetry

'.

this danger at length in Science and Poetry. reason to think that poetry has often arisen through fusion (or confusion) between the two forms of belief, the boundary between 1

I

There

have discussed is

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

279

For the

difficulty crops up, as I have insisted, over that poetry departs, for its own purposes, from the most ordinary universal facts of common experience all

or from the most necessary deductions of scientific It waylays the strict rationalist with Blake's theory. Sunflower ', Wordsworth's River Duddon ', and *

c

'

Shelley's

Cloud

',

no

less

than with their more

utterances/ Shakespeare's Lark is as shocking as his Phoenix. Even so honest a man as Gray attributes very disputable motives to his Owl. As for Dry den's new-kindled star ', the last verse of Keats' Ode to Melancholy or Landor's transcendental

c

>

Rose Aylmer it is very clear where we should be with them if we could not give emotional assent apart

The slightest poetry as the may present problem clearly (though not so as And the the fact that we solve greatest. acutely) it, in practice, without the least difficulty in minor cases shows, I think, that even in the major instances of philosophic and religious issues the same solution is But the temptation to confuse the applicable. two forms of belief is there greater. For in these cases an appearance of incompleteness or insincerity may attach to emotional acceptance divorced from intellectual assent.1 That this is from

intellectual conviction.

what is intellectually certified and what is not being much less sharply The definited in former centuries and defined in another manner. standard of verification used in science to-day is comparatively a new As the scientific view of the world (including our own nature) thing. develops, we shall probably be forced into making a division between fact and fiction that, unless we can meet it with a twofold theory of belief on the lines suggested above, would be fatal not only to poetry but to all our finer, more spiritual, responses. That is the problem. 1 The most important example of this divorce that history provides Here are is in the attitude of Confucius towards ancestor-worship. the remarks of his chief English translator, James Legge, upon the * It will not be supposed that I wish to advocate or defend matter. the practice of sacrificing to the dead. object has been to point

My

how Confucius

without acknowledging the faith from which it must have originated, and how he enforced it as a matter of form or ceremony. It thus connects itself with the most the charge of serious charge that can be brought against him

out

recognised

it,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

28o

'

'

simply a mistake due to a double-meaning of belief has been my contention. To pretend to believe what we don't really believe would certainly be insincerity, if the two kinds of believing were one and the same but if they are not, the confusion is another example of the prodigious power of merely words over our lives. Arjd this will be the best place to take up the uncomfortable problem of sincerity ', a word much used in criticism, but not often with

'

'

'

'

;

'

any precise definition of its meaning. The ideas, vague and precise, for which sincere stands must have been constantly in the reader's mind during our discussion both of Stock Responses and of Sentimentality. We can set aside at once the ordinary business sense in which a man is insincere when he deliberately attempts to deceive, and sincere when his statements and acts are governed by the And we can deal best of his knowledge and belief '. touched with another sense, already briefly upon in connection with Poem VII (see p. 95), in which a man is insincere when he kids himself ', when he mistakes his own motives and so professes feelings which are different from those that are in fact actuating him. Two subtle points, however, must be noted before w e set this sense aside. The feelings need not be stated or even openly expressed it is enough if they are hinted to us. And they need not be actual

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*

*

r

;

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real, live

they may imagined required for this kind of insincerity is a discrepancy between the poem's claim upon our response and its shaping impulses in the But only the shaping impulses are poet's mind. A good poem can perfectly well be relevant. written for money or from pique or ambition, provided these initial external motives do not interfere personal feelings.

All that

feelings

;

is

insincerity', The Chinese Classics, Vol. I, Prolegomena, Ch. V, p. 100. far Legge was qualified to expound the Confucian doctrine of

How

sincerity

may perhaps be

divined from this passage.

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

281

with its growth. Interferences of all kinds notably the desire to make the poem original ', striking ', or are, of course, the usual cause of poetic in this sense. sense which ought not, insincerity it may be remarked, to impute blame to the author, unless we are willing to agree that all men who are not good poets are therefore blameworthy in a high '

'

*

'

A

degree.

These subtleties were necessary to escape the conclusion that irony, for example where the feeling really present is often the exact contrary to that is as insincere as overtly professed simple readers often suppose it must be. A more troublesome problem is raised if we ask whether an emotion, by itself and apart from its expression, can be sincere or insincere. We often speak as if this were so (witness 4-2, 4-23 and 8-51), and though sometimes no doubt this is only an of saying that we approve (or disof the emotion, there are senses in which approve) a fact about the emotion, not about our feelings about Sincere emotions, we say, are genuine it, is meant. or authentic, as opposed to spurious emotions, and the several senses which we may imply thereby are worth examining. may mean that the emotion is genuine in the sense that every product of a perfect effective

way

We

mind would be genuine. It would result only from the prompting situation plus all the relevant experience of that mind, and be free from impurities and from interferences, from impulses that had in any way Since such got out of place and become disordered. minds are nowhere obtainable in this obstructive all

world, such a sense

is

useful only as an ideal standard

by which to measure degrees of relative insincerity. There is not a just man on earth that doeth good and sinneth not '. Some great poetry, we might '

say, represents the closest And for

can be found.

approach to sincerity that extreme degrees of insin-

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

282

Possibly however, cerity we should look in asylums. the perfect mind, if it ever appeared among us, might be put there too. But this is plainly not a sense of sincerity which we often use, it is not what people ordinarily mean.

For we would agree that stupid people can be very sincere, though their minds may be very much in a muddle, and we might* even suggest that they are

more

we may for there

to

be sincere than the clever. Simplicity, think, has something to do with sincerity,

likely to is

a sense in

c

sophisticated suggested, is one

which

'

*

genuine

The

'.

which

sincere feeling, has been left in

is it

opposed may be

its

natural

not worked over and complicated by reflection. Thus strong spontaneous feelings would be more likely to be sincere than feelings that have run the gauntlet of self-criticism, and a dog, for example, might be regarded as a more sincere animal than state,

any man. This is certainly a sense which is frequent, though whether we should praise emotions that are sincere in this sense as much as most people do, is extremely doubtful. It is partly an echo of Rousseau's romantic Natural Man '. Admiration for the fiction, the spontaneous and natural tends to select favourable examples and turns a very blind eye to the less attractive phenomena. Moreover, many emotions which look simple and natural are nothing of the kind, they result from cultivated self-control, so '

'

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consummate and an

as to

'

'

seem instantaneous. These cases, some children's

attractive but limited virtue in

explain, I believe, the popularity of in this sense. So used, the word is of little sincerity service in criticism, for this kind of sincerity in poetry

behaviour,

must

necessarily be rare.

be worth while hunting a little longer for a satisfactory sense of sincerity '. Whatever it is, it is the quality we most insistently require in poetry. It will

'

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

283

the quality we most need as critics. And, in the proportion that we possess it we shall perhaps, acknowledge that it is not a quality that we can take It is also

for granted in ourselves as our inalienable birthright. It fluctuates with our state of health, with the quality

of our recent companions, with our responsibility and our nearness to the object, with a score of conditions that are not easy to take account of. can feel in as others can sincere see when, fact, clearly, very there is no sincerity in us. Bogus forms of the confident inner assurances and virtue waylay us And when we doubt invasive rootless convictions. our own sincerity and ask ourselves, Do I really do I really feel so ? an honest answer is think so

We

*

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;

not easily come by. A direct effort to be sincere, like other effects to will ourselves into action, more For all these often than not, frustrates its intention. reasons any light that can be gained upon the nature of sincerity, upon possible tests for it and means for

inducing and promoting

it,

is

extremely serviceable

to the critic.

The most

stimulating discussion of this topic

is

to

be found in the Chung Yung l (The Doctrine of the Mean, or Equilibrium and Harmony), the treatise

embodies the most interesting and the most more puzzling part of the teachings of Confucius. distinct (and distinguished) word than stimulating would be in place to describe this treatise, were the invigorating effect of a careful reading easier to define. Sincerity the object of some idea that seems to lie in the territory that sincerity covers appears there as the beginning and end of personal that

A

'

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L

'

As might be expected, no translation that entirely commends Those to whom Legge's edition of 77ic Chinese

itself is available.

Classics, Vol. I, is not available, may consult the translation by L. A. Lyall and King Chien Kun, The Chung Yung or The Centre, the

Common (Longmans), very literal, but perhaps slightly too much Here what is translated by others tinctured with a Y.M.C.A. flavour. * sincerity' or 'singleness' is rendered by 'to be true and 'being' true'.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

284

good life, the only means to means to give full development the good government, to our own natures, to give full development to the nature of others, and very much more. This virtue is as mysterious as it is powerful and, where so scholars have and Chinese many great sinologues confessed themselves bailed, it would be absurd for character, the secret of the

;

one who knows no Chinese to suggest interpretations. But some speculations generated by a reading of translations may round off this chapter. The following extracts from the Chung Yung seem the most relevant to our discussion. The attainSincerity is the way of Heaven. ment of sincerity is the way of men. He who possesses sincerity, is he who, without an effort, hits what is right, and apprehends, without the exercise of thought he is the sage who naturally and easily embodies the right way. He who attains to sincerity, is he who chooses what is good, and firmly holds it '

;

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(Legge, XX, 18). Sincerity is that whereby self- completion is effected, and its way is that by which man must direct himself (Legge, XXV, i). In self-completion the superior man completes other men and things also and this is the way by which a union is effected of the external and the internal In the Book of Poetry, it is (XXV, 3). " In hewing an axe-handle, in hewing an axesaid, handle, the pattern is not far off ". We grasp one axe-handle to hew the other, and yet, if we look askance from the one to the other, we may consider them as apart (XIII, 2). There is a way to the attainment of sincerity in one's self if a man does not understand what is good, he will not attain When we have sincerity in himself (XX, 17). intelligence resulting from sincerity, this condition is to be ascribed to nature when we have sincerity resulting from intelligence, this condition is to be ascribed to instruction. But given the sincerity, fast

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;

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

285

there shall be the intelligence, given the intelligence there shall be the sincerity (XXI). How far apart any detailed precise exposition in English, or in any modern Western language, must be from the form of thought of the original, is shown if we compare a more literal version of this last passage Being true begets light, we call tjbat nature. Light leads What is true to being true, we call that teaching. what is light grows true (Lyall and grows light '

*

:

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;

King Chien-Kim, p. Meditating upon

16). this chain

of pronouncements another sense to justify the

we can perhaps construct (or discover) of sincerity. One important enough stress so often laid

this quality

upon

by

critics,

yet

not compelling us to require an impossible perfection or inviting us to sentimental (Sense 3) indiscriminate over-admiration of the ebullitions of

And

infants. this

sense

it

more

may be

by apprehending what general conand what steps may

possible,

clearly, to see

ditions will encourage sincerity be suggested to promote this mysterious but necessary virtue in the critic. may take self-completion as our starting-point.

We

The completed mind would be

that perfect

mind we

envisaged above, in which no disorder, no mutual Let us suppose frustration of impulses remained. that in the irremediable default of this perfection, default due to man's innate constitution and to the accidents to which he is exposed, there exists a tendency towards increased order? a tendency which 1

I

have

in several

Foundations of Esthetics, Ch.

XXII

;

Science

made prolonged and determined mental order I have in mind (The

other places

efforts to indicate the types of

XIV

and Poetry

-,

;

Principles of Literary Criticism, but without escaping certain

II),

large misunderstandings that I had hoped to have guarded myself Thus Mr Eliot, reviewing Science and Poetry in The Dial, against. describes my ideal order as * Efficiency, a perfectly-working mental Roneo Steel Cabinet System', and Mr Read performing a similar service for Principles in The Criterion, seemed to understand that where I spoke of * the organisation of impulses' I meant that kind of

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

286

takes effect unless baffled by physical interferences (disease) or by fixations of habit that prevent us from continuing to learn by experience, or by ideas too invested with emotion for other ideas that disturb them to be formed, or by too lax and volatile a bond between our interests (a frivolousness that is perhaps due to the draining off of energy elsewhere) so that no formations firm enough to build upon result.

much to be said in favour of such a supThis tendency would be a need, in the position. sense defined above in this chapter deriving in fact from the fundamental imbalance l to which biological development may be supposed to be due. This There

is

development with man (and his animal neighbours) seems to be predominantly in the direction of greater complexity and finer differentiation of responses.

And

it is

easy to conceive the organism

as relieving, through this differentiation, the strain put upon it by life in a partly uncongenial environment. It is but a step further to conceive it as also strains due to these from without. And a redevelopments imposed

tending

to

relieve

internal

ordering of its impulses so as to reduce their interferences with one another to a minimum would deliberate planning and arrangement which the controllers of a good But organisation for me railway or large shop must carry out. stood for that kind of interdependence of parts which we allude to when we speak of living things as 'organisms' and the 'order' which I make out to be so important is not tidiness. The distinguished names cited in this foot-note will protect the reader from a sense that these explanations are insulting to his intelligence. A good idea of some of the possibilities of order and disorder in the mind may be gained from Pavlov's Conditioned Reflexes. 1 Whether we can profitably posit a primal imbalance in certain forms of matter for which the appearance of living substances and *

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complex forms right up to Shakewere, the swings of the pendulum 'attempting' to come to rest again, is a speculation that has perhaps only an amusement value. The great difficulty would be to get round the separation of the reproductive functions, but that is a difficulty for any cosmologist. their

development

speare would be, as

in increasingly it

DOCTRINE IN POETRY

287 '

c

direction be the most successful and the natural which this tendency would take. Such a re-ordering would be a partial selfcompletion, temporary and provisional upon the external world remaining for the individual much what it had been in the past. And by such selfcompletion the superior map would effect a union of the external and the internal '. Being more at one within itself the mind thereby becomes more '

I am appropriately responsive to the outer world. not suggesting that this is what Confucius meant. For him to complete other men and things too ', is possibly the prerogative of the force of example, other men merely imitating the conduct of the sage, But he may have meant that freedom calls out freedom ; that those who are most themselves more cause others about them to become also which would, perhaps, be a more themselves sagacious observation. Perhaps, too, the union of the external and the internal meant for him something different from the accordance of our thoughts '

'

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;

*

'

But certainly, for us, this one of the fruits of sincerity. This tendency towards a more perfect order, as

and

feelings with reality.

accordance

is

'

enables us, without effort, to hit without the exercise of thought, and, right, The exercise of thought here to apprehend '. must be understood as that process of deliberately it

takes effect,

what

is

*

'

setting aside inappropriate ideas and feelings, which, in default of a sufficient inner order a sufficient is still very necessary. Confucius has sincerity in the Chung Yung (Ch. XX, elsewhere to say enough 20) of the need for unremitting research and reflection

to clear himself from any before sincerity is attained ' ' charge of recommending intuition as an alternative '

Intuition

'

is the prerogative only of those who have attained to sincerity. It is only the superior man who naturally and easily embodies

to investigation.

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

288

the right

way

And

'.

when

his sincerity to steps remedy it.

is

the superior

insufficient

man

will

and take

know

ceaseless

'If another man (more sincere) succeed by one effort, he will use a hundred efforts. If another man succeed by ten efforts, he will use a thousand (Chung Yung, XX, 20). It is the which the superior man has already sincerity to '

P

attained

which enables him

to

know when

it

is

does not yet enable him to embody the right way, it at least enables him to refrain from embodying the wrong, as those who trust intuition too soon are likely to do. Indeed, looking back over insufficient

;

if it

are certain the history of thought, we might say, to do ', so heavy are the probabilities against the success of guess-work. Sincerity, then, in this sense, is obedience to that tendency which seeks a more perfect order within the mind. When the tendency is frustrated (e.g., by fatigue or by an idea or feeling that has lost its link with experience, or has become fixed beyond the When possibility of change) we have insincerity. confusion reigns and we are unable to decide what we think or feel (to be distinguished sharply from the case when decided thoughts or feelings are present, but we are unable to define or express them) are we need be neither sincere nor insincere. in a transitional stage which may result in either. Most good critics will confess to themselves that this is the state in which a first reading of any poem of an unfamiliar type leaves them. They know that more study is needed if they are to achieve a genuine response, and they know this in virtue of the It follows that sincerity they have already attained. people with clear definite ideas and feelings, with a high degree of practical efficiency, may be insincere in this sense. Other kinds of sincerity, to convictions for fidelity example, will not save and it indeed well be this fidelity which them, may '

*

'

We

DOCTRINE IN POETRY thwarting the XXIV) in them. is

of the

life

289

(Chung Yung,

spirit

response (however mistaken from other of points view) which embodies the present activity of this tendency to inner adjustment will be sincere, and any response that conflicts with it or inhibits it will be insincere. Thus to be sincere is to act, feel and think in accordance with one's true nature ', and to be insincere is to act, feel or think in a contrary manner. But the sense to be given to one's true nature is, as we have seen, a matter largely conTo define it more exactly would perhaps jectural. be tedious and, for our purposes here, needless. In practice we often seem to grasp it very clearly and all that I have attempted here is to sketch the state of affairs which we then seem to grasp. What heaven has conferred is man's Nature an accordance with this is the Path (Chung Yung, I). Sometimes we can be certain that we have left it. 1 On the ways in which sincerity may be increased and extended Confucius is very definite. If we seek a standard for a new response whose sincerity may be in doubt, we shall find it, he says, in the very responses which make the new one possible. The pattern for the new axe-handle is already in our hand, though its very nearness, our firm possession of it, may hide it from us. need, of course, a founded assurance of the sincerity of these in-

Any

*

*

*

;

'

;

'

We

strumental responses themselves, and this we can gain by comparison. What is meant by making the allowing no selfthe thoughts sincere is as when we hate a bad smell, and as when deception *

'

*

The path may not be left for an Hut see Chung Yung, I, 2. If it could be left, it would not be the path.' Possibly we can escape this difficulty by admitting that all mental activities are, to some degree, the operation of the tendency we have been speaking of. Thus all are the Path. But the Path can be obstructed, and may have loops. 'The regulation of (what keeps trim) the path is instruction (Chung Yung, I, i). '

1

instant.

^

T

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

2QO

we

what

'

beautiful (The Great Learning, When we hate bad a smell we can have no VI, i). can all, at doubt that our response is sincere. find some least, responses beyond suspicion. These are our standard. By studying our sincerity in the fields in which we are fully competent we can extend it into the fields in which our ability is still feeling

love

is

We

'

This seems to fee the meaning of choosing what is good and firmly holding fast to it/ where good stands not for our Western ethical notion so much as for the fit and proper, sane and healthy. does not The man who does not hate a bad smell or no basis understand what is good having he will not attain to '. standards, sincerity Together with these, the simplest most definite responses, there may be suggested also, as standards for sincerity, the responses we make to the most baffling objects that can be presented to our conits

way. '

c

'

'

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'

;

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sciousness.

a technique or ritual for heightening sincerity might well be worked out. When our response to a poem after our best efforts remains uncertain, when we are unsure whether the feelings it excites come from a deep source in our experience, whether our liking or disliking is genuine, is ours, or an accident of fashion, a response to surface detail or to essentials, we may perhaps help like

Something

in a frame of feelings our Sit by sincerity beyond questioning. the fire (with eyes shut and fingers pressed firmly upon the eyeballs) and consider with as full

ourselves by considering

whose

'

'

realisation i.

it

is

Man's

as possible

:

loneliness (the isolation of the

human

situation). ii.

The

iii.

The

of birth, and of death, inexplicable oddity. facts

in

their

inconceivable immensity of the Universe.

DOCTRINE IN POETRY iv.

v.

Man's place

291

in the perspective of time,

The enormity

of his ignorance,

not as gloomy thoughts or as targets for doctrine, but as the most incomprehensible and inexhaustible then in the glow objects for meditation there are of their emotional reverberation pass the poem * through the mind, silently reciting it as slowly as it Whether what it can stir in us is important allows. or not to us will, perhaps, show itself then. Many religious exercises and some of the practices of divination and magic may be thought to be directed ;

in part towards a similar quest for sanction, to be designed to provide standards of sincerity.

rituals

These

are serious steps, it may be thought, to take such a matter as the reading of poetry. But though sometimes the irresolute tide of impulses, whose hesitation has been our difficulty, is shallow, sometimes it is deep. And whether deep or shallow It the sincerity of our response is all-important. some with that be the indeed, said, justice, might in

value of poetry it

lies

in the difficult exercise in sincerity

can impose upon

the poet.

its

readers even

more than upon

CHAPTER

VIII

TECHNICAL PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS Man lives that list, that leaning in the will No wisdom can forecast by gauge or guess, The

most strange, most still, foredrawn to No or Yes.

selfless self of self,

Fast furled and

all

GERARD HOPKINS. *

MY

'

children ', said Confucius once, why does no one of you study the Odes ? They are adapted to rouse the mind, to assist observation, to make people sociable, to excite indignation. They speak of duties and it is from them that one becomes far and near conversant with the names of many birds, beasts, ;

V

plants and trees In addition to these benefits many other advantages may be expected from the reading of poetry. It is these expectations, and their varying degrees of legitimacy and importance, that are the subject of this chapter.

expectations is

supposed

Few

people approach poetry without

that

by

'

more

often, implicit. the act of writing in verse

explicit or,

It

an

author makes a formal engagement that he will 1

Analects, XVII, 9. The Odes: a compilation arranged and edited by Confucius himself,

so that the philosopher's plaintive tone is intelligible. Observation : be used for purposes of self-contemplation (Legge). Very true and in more than one sense. Sociable : no longer true in England, distinctly so in America. To excite indignation : virtuous indignation (Jennings) to regulate feelings of resentment (Legge) possumus jure indignari (Zottoli). All these interpretations, too, seem justified by our protocols. and near: Cf. Treasure Island: " Dooty is dooty," says Duties far Captain Smollett, and right he is. Just you steer clear of the Cap'n."' Birds : especially noteworthy in view of twentieth-century English And surely fishes should be added. Poetry. ;

;

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292

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS gratify

certain

known

habits of association

293

said

',

Wordsworth in his famous Preface. The reader need not know what he is expecting it is enough that he He it. will be or expects gratified annoyed accordingly. We may sort these expectations under two headings as they concern the means employed by the poet and ;

the ends that he endeavour^ to attain but so much confusion exists between the two that they must first be considered together. Often a reader will not know in the least whether the demand he makes concerns the one or the other, and without a good deal of evidence it may be difficult to decide the ;

t

There is nothing surprising in this, no complex field of human activity is the distinction between means and ends easy to draw. And in the case of poetry an imposing doctrine of Formal Virtues has lately been in vogue, whose Art If effect is simply to deny the distinction. for Art's Sake ', or Pure Poetry ', is in the back1 we may well despair of ground of our minds point for him. for in

*

'

reaching any clarity in this matter. Before we begin again to dip for examples among the protocols a danger already mentioned in Part I may be recalled. We must not suppose that bad critical principles imply bad reading. A good reader the a judgment most for reasons may allege inept which in every other way is entirely to the point. It is not so much the stated reasons that we have to examine, as the actual influence of prior expectations, An illegitimate expectation, however, for good or ill. is always a threat to the reader it waits until his sensitiveness, his neural vigilance ', ebbs enough to ;

'

leave

him

at its

mercy.

See Principles, Chs. II, X, XVIII, where the confusions which are responsible for such doctrines are discussed. The distinction between means and ends is not, of course, normally clear to the poet in the act of composition, or to the reader at the climax of his reading. But when the reader attempts to discuss the poem he ought at least to try to draw the distinction. 1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

294

Technical presuppositions, though they may trap even intelligent readers, are not a very interesting subject and may be dealt with briefly. They interfere whenever we make the mistake of supposing either that the means a poet uses are valuable for their own sake, or that they can be prescribed without reference to his aim, so tlpat by mere inquiry into the means we can conclude as to the value. Put in this form the mistake may seem too silly to be frequent, but in fact it is extremely insidious, for the language of criticism and many of its current assumptions invite us constantly to commit it. If we wish, as critics, to write what the cultivated

unspecialised world will accept as a tolerable prose, we are often compelled, for example, to say things about the poem, or the words in it, which are only true of the effects of the poem upon the minds of its readers. use a shorthand which identifies the ascribed rhythm of the poem with its actual sounds, the various meanings of the words with the words themselves, and our response to the whole poem with a character of the poem itself. speak of the poem's beauty instead of entering upon elaborate and speculative analyses of its effect upon us. (We

We

We

may, perhaps, be trusting that our more intelligent and informed readers will decode and expand our shorthand, but in fact few of them will do so.) And because we write in this way very ancient mental habits are restored to power in our own minds and

we come temporarily ourselves to think that the virtues of a poem lie not in its power over us, but in its own structure and conformation as an assemblage of verbal sounds.

With

this recrudescence of

an attitude to language, which has long been obsolete and discredited for reflective persons, we become at once exposed to every kind of mistake and confusion. The frequency and variety of these dogmatic

pronouncements upon

detail,

irrespective

of

the

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS

295

amply demonstrated in the protocols. were commented Many upon, as they appeared, in Part II but here may be listed some of the chief

final result, are

;

occasions for this blunder, if only to point a moral. No other critical moral, perhaps, deserves more The blunder in all cases is the attempt insistence.

marks independently to details that can only be judged fairly with reference to the whole final result to which they contribute. It is the blunder of attempting to say how the poet shall work without regard for what he is doing. I shall proceed from the more obvious to the more debatable instances.

to assign

among these representative occasions may come Imperfect Rhymes (2-1-2-22,

First folly

for 3-1,

3-41) and Metrical Irregularities (2-2, 3*44, 8-44, 12-51, 13-61, 13-62), the Line-end Stop (8-33, 8-43) and Sonnet Form (3-1, 3-4, 3-41, 5-56, 6-4, 9-82, Next, perhaps, should come Cacophony 12-51). (2-23, 3-4, 6-33,

7-57),

10-55).

and the

Then

10-42, 10-44) and Euphony (4-22, Intrinsic Qualities of Words (10-4, demands for Descriptive Accuracy

(2-22, 8-15, 9-2) deserve mention, along with Vivid-

ness (11-22), Logic (2-24), Unmixed Metaphor (6-41, 10-61) and the various problems of figurative language discussed in Part III, Chapter II.

More doubt may be

felt about insistence upon Conciseness (13*65), Majesty Clarity (5-51, 6-37), in Epitaphs (11*43) and the demand for a Serious Subject or Message (2-3, 11-42, 13*8). But with this we pass to a border-line case where a Technical

Presupposition may be indistinguishable from a critical preconception as to the aim of poetry. The writer of 2-3, for example, may be combining, along with his two other technical presuppositions, a requirement that the sense of the poem be important when taken by itself. The verb to say ', *

when used

of poetry,

be equivalent to

'

is

always ambiguous.

communicate

'

in

which

It

may

case, of

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

296

every poem worthy of something of importance. But it course, '

to

state

',

and many

'

*

attention

says may be equivalent great poems state nothing.

Even when something important

is

stated,

we should

beware of considering the statement in isolation from its place in the poem. But on this enough has been said in the last chapter. In contrast to 2-3, the t*wo writers who follow (2-4 and 2-41) seem to be showing a concern, not with the technique or detail of the poem, but with its general nature or with the result. Their demand for a serious subject may be a demand for an end, not for a means. And a serious subject may be only their name for a serious result. If so, we pass over to the more interesting question of the views that may be held as to the value of poetry and the influence of these views, whether they are held implicitly or explicitly, upon our reading and

judgment. presuppositions, as a rule, are not of reflection. The man who supposes that products rhymes must be perfect, that lines must not run over, that sonnets must have a definite division, that strict

Technical

descriptive accuracy must be achieved, would usually, challenged, admit that he saw no conclusive reason why these things should be so. Accidents of teaching, bad inductive inferences from a few salient examples, expectations we slip into without reflection, are responsible for most of this technical dogmatism. But general preconceptions as to the value of poetry are theories, that is to say, they are due to reflection and the sincerity and intelligence of this reflection if

;

The test is fortunately happens, be tested. whether the values of poetry are described in a way which pretends to be directly serviceable in criticism. I can make this rather cryptic assertion clearer by a few examples. Let us take first the common theory that the value of poetry is in the value of its can,

it

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS

297

It can be, and usually is, framed in such subject. a way that we can very easily decide for ourselves,

according to our tastes and temperament, about the reader approaching Poem value of the subject. or Poem XI 1 for example, may say to himself, Ah, this is a description of the experience of lying and looking at clouds He picks out something he can call the subject. Usually he has little difficulty in deciding about the value of this subject. He can this then argue It is good to lie and look at clouds and the of looking poem conveys experience lying at clouds therefore, this poem is good '. (See

X

A

,

'

'

!

c

;

;

'

Or

Lying and looking at this and trivial activity commonplace such an therefore, this poem represents activity is and trivial '. poem commonplace (See 2-3, 4*24.) 10-2.)

clouds

conversely

:

a

is

;

;

One might a

bad man

as well argue that a faithful portrait of is therefore a bad picture.

Similarly, with the very frequent theories. Half the readers of Poem /,

i-iSi and

i

-21, will serve

us as examples

'

'

message ;

especially or 4-13,

or 7-2, or 5-3, 5-32, 4-24, 4-28, 4-5 5'35>.5'38 ; have been or the list 9-5, 9-51 7-34, 7-5 might made much longer. The reader finds, or fails to find, something in the poem which seems to him ;

;

;

'

an inspiring message ', and argues from the presence or absence of this inspirational bit to the value or lack of value of the poem. It can hardly be doubted that this quest for a message, this preconception that the value of poetry is in its power to inspire us, is a strong influence in most readers' approach to '

'

poetry,

judgment with It

this

that it determines their reading and in a high degree. What then is wrong

and

it ?

may

help us to

approach

make

clearer if

the fundamental error of

we compare

it

with another

case in which a similar preconception leads to the similar indiscrimination and loss of values :

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

2Q8

preconception in favour of Lilt is

4-22, 8-43, 12-41).

due

'

'

in poetry (4-16,

lilt

an excellent thing in

its

does not give value to poetry unless the rest of the poem requires it, accords with it, conplace, but

ditions

it

and

it

justifies

it.

IV

(See Chapter

above.)

As an independent demand and

a test for value, the for lilt makes us quest insusceptible to other more important movements wliich may be present in its

more important things which the poet may be doing. So it is with the quest for Sometimes they are in place inspiring thoughts '. who would deny it ? but to expect them is to grow blind to better things that poetry may offer. And, place.

It

blinds us to

'

as '

we may

observe

we watch one

if

thirst for inspiration

'

is

another, the

as capable of refinement

or crudity as any other thirst. The more refined and discriminating our preconception of poetry is, the more impossible any direct crude subject-theory or application becomes.

A

'

*

'

'

message-theory can be applied directly. It will us to conclude quickly and easily (and So mistakenly) whether the poetry is good or bad. too will theories that poetry must be vivid ', simple', sensuous ', musical ', stirring ', passionate ', enable

*

'

*

'

'

'

*

sincere Y in fact so will any impersonal ', or theory that gives us a definite character that we can look for in a poem and decide is present or absent. An enormous amount of trouble has been devoted to the discovery of such keys, and to making them

more and more complex.

This trouble,

if

what we

wasted. But if what \ye are is a not but an understanding of the seeking key, whole matter, and particularly of the reasons why no such keys can be used, then the trouble is very

are seeking

is

a key,

is

1 It may be thought that, on my own showing in the preceding But it is only in chapter, I should make an exception of sincerity. the conjectural Confucian sense that we could take sincerity as a criterion of excellence in poetry and on this see p. 301 below. Some kinds of insincerity are perhaps useful negative indications. ;

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS

299

For the more thoroughly we work out our account of the differences between good and bad poetry the more intricate and complex the account becomes. Alternatives, conditions, qualificaand the rest, tions, compensating conditions force themselves into it under the pressure of the

well rewarded.

.

.

.

becomes evi4ent that a direct practical application of an adequate account to any poem is It is much easier to decide that a poem impossible. is good or bad than to frame a description of its merits and decide whether this description applies

facts, until

to

it

it.

We

might be tempted

to

conclude from this that

inquiry into the differences between good and bad in poetry is futile, and that indulgence in it is an example of academic fatuity. But this conclusion

be seen, I hope, to be a mistake. The physical sciences offer innumerable parallels. It is much a for to tell whether easier, falling stone example, on a mountain is likely to hit you or not than to collect the necessary data and calculate its trajectory. None the less the mathematical and physical theories that here seem so useless have innumerable indirect and roundabout applications. (Not two of my readers in a hundred would be alive without them. Such has been the effect of the steamship, itself a result of Galileo, upon civilisation !) And though all the theory in the world does not make it possible to be sure that we shall not be hit, it can at least satisfy us that the stone is not a hostile magician in

will

disguise, and that incantations will not appreciably divert it from its course.

Most

dogmas, preconceptions of the kind that can be and are applied to poetry, have almost exactly the intellectual standing and the serviceablecritical

'

ness of primitive superstitions '. They rest upon our desire for explanation, our other desires, our respect for tradition, and to a slight degree upon

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

300

Sometimes, by good fortune, they faulty induction. are useful on the whole they make us much more ;

we would be without them. Only such an experiment as that which produced the protocols (a small selection only of the harvest and not, in this respect, a selection of extreme examples) can convince stupid than

anyone of the extent of their interference. They interfere in two different ways. By blinding the reader to what else is in the poem, so that he forces his predilection, if he can, upon the poem rejecting, comparatively unread,

poems

that will not

Secondly, by blurring and disabling his judgment. Any general theory that we may be tempted to apply to poetry and continue to apply, must unless we are very Napoleonic readers be of the kind which disguises great vagueness and ambiguity behind an appearance of simplicity and allow

it.

precision.

Most

duplicity, as with sincere '

*

sincere

'

key -words excel in this seen with sentimental and Supplied with one of these words critical

'.

'

'

we have

primitive unhave the poem up before

a great favourite in

is

its

analysed condition we us and apply the test. There will probably be from seven to eleven senses, more or less important, all confusedly among the possibilities of the word in the context. The word is the meeting-point of these senses, which without this common outlet of expression might never run any risk of being confused. Such words, like blunderbusses, cover much ground ;

quite easy to suppose that only one unambiguous (though, of course, subtle ') meaning is present. Words like sincerity ', truth ', sentimentality ', belief ', form ', significance ', and ', expression ' meaning itself, seem to those who rely on them to hit the mark repeatedly in an almost miraculous But this is only because a cloud of fashion. heterogeneous missiles instead of a single meaning

yet

it is

'

*

1

'

'

*

'

'

'

is

discharged on each occasion, and the marksman-

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS ship is no a Buffalo

more notable than the similar Bill's Wild Western Show.

301

exploits at

What

is

the naivety of the spectators, and of the performers, who here have no suspicion that with such words a total miss is almost an impossiBut to discover which missile hit what on any bility. occasion is not at all an easy matter. The result of a highly ambiguous though simpleseeming doctrine, when it collaborates with our well ascertained capacity to read poems much as we wish to read them, is to disable our judgment to a point Or well below its normal unindoctrinated level. a way that rather, to put the point in a better way more clearly reflects the operations of our minds the result of doctrine is to transform what was choice into judgment. Judgment in these matters is not a refinement upon choice (as it is in legal matters), it is a but a degradation disguise which hampers and confuses an activity of choice which to the end remains the animating spirit beneath all the trappings of judgment. All critical doctrines are attempts to convert choice into what may seem a safer activity the reading evidence and the application of rules and They are an invasion into an inapproprinciples. priate sphere of that modern transformation, the displacement of the will by observation and judgment. Instead of deciding that we are too cold or too warm

wonderful

is

;

we hang up

a thermometer. Perhaps wisely, for our feelings here are not altogether to be trusted

of central heating. But in (in the large sense which makes them as much currents in our will as objects to introspection) are in the end the whole matter.

since

the

invention

poetry our feelings

x

We

cannot substitute for them any poetic-thermometer in the form of any doctrine whatsoever without being betrayed. The only exception would be some doctrine such as the account of sincerity fathered

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

302

on Confucius in the last chapter which amounts to making the discernment of what is good a matter of But it must be an essential not an arbitrary choice. which expresses the needs of the being one choice, as a whole, not a random gust of desire or the obstructing capacity of some dead member. Thus no theory, no description, of poetry can be trusted which is not too intricate to be applied This may be what Blake meant by saying that Virtue Value in poetry resides only in minute particulars '. turns nearly always upon differences and connections too minute and unobtrusive to be directly perceived. We recognise them only in their effects. Just as the differences of phase through which we locate sounds '

in space are too slight in their auditory effects to be 1 discriminated, yet through their ocular reflexes so the differences fulfil their function perfectly ;

between good and bad poetry may be indiscernible to direct attention yet patent in their effects

upon

The

choice of our whole personality may we possess delicate enough instrument be the only the discrimination. to effect When we have the poem in all its minute particulars

feeling.

as intimately

we can

and

contrive

minds as no general description of it but

as fully present to our

the very experience itself present as a living pulse in our biographies then our acceptance or rejection of There comes a point in all criticism it must be direct. where a sheer choice has to be made without the

support of any arguments, principles, or general All .that arguments or principles can do is rules. to protect us from irrelevancies, red-herrings and disturbing preconceptions. They may remind us perhaps, that every poem has many more aspects than are presented on one occasion. They may help us to bring more of our personality to bear upon the poem than we otherwise might do. They certainly 1

See Piron, Thought and the Brain.

Part II, ch.

iv.

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS

303

can prevent us from judging by the detail rather than by the whole. They may preserve us from bad arguments but they cannot supply good ones.

And in general if we find is poetry. near this crucial ourselves, point of choice, looking for help from arguments, we may suspect that we The point is critical in are on the wrong track. for it is in these moments sense the secondary too, of sheer decision that the mind becomes most plastic, and selects, at the incessant multiple shifting cross-roads, the direction of its future development. The critical act is the starting-point, not the conclusion, of an argument. The personality stands balanced between the particular experience which is the realised poem and the whole fabric of its past So complex

experiences and developed habits of mind. What is being settled is whether this new experience can or cannot be taken into the fabric with advantage. Would the fabric afterwards be better or worse ? Often it must be the case that the new modification of experience would improve the fabric if it could be taken in, but too much reconstruction would be needed. The strain, the resistance, is too great, and Sometimes nothing essential the poem is rejected. in the fabric prevents the incorporation of the poem. Only some slight unnecessary fold or twist or crumple, or some piece of adventitious scaffolding stands in the way, a result of clumsy thinking rather than Yet these a flaw or malformation in the self. obstructions may cut us off from the thing we most need. Among these accidents inadequate critical

what we need and imposing we do not what need, are sadly too frequent upon us

theories, withholding

in our minds.

The critic himself, of course, in the moment of choice knows nothing about all this. He may feel the strain. He may notice the queer shifts of emotional perspective that may affect all his other

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

3o4

thoughts

as his

mind

tries,

now

in one

way now

the poem. He will sense an obscure struggle as the poem's secret allies and enemies manoeuvre within him. When these in-

in another, to

fit

itself to

ternal parties in dispute cannot escape their deadlock, or sit down to a war of attrition, he will know, if he is sincere, that any decision he takes about the

merely a postponement. For it is not only his opinion about it which is unsettled, but the form and order of his personality itself. He will do well to make a temporary decision however, and persuade

poem

is

himself provisionally either of its excellence or its demerits. The experiment often stirs the internal a movement. And the into healthy dispute follows the forced acceptance which oppression of a bad poem may give its enemies their chance a revolution. But when the conflict resolves when obstruction the itself, goes down or the crumple is straightened out, when an old habit which has been welcoming a bad poem is revivified into a fresh formation, or a new limb which has grown to meet a good poem wakes into life, the mind clears, and new energy wells up after the pause a collectedness supervenes ; behind our rejection or acceptance (even of a minor poem) we feel the sanction and authority of the self-completing spirit. This amounts, perhaps, to a claim that a certain kind of critical choice is infallible. know only too well what to expect when a man begins by saying Of course, we are all fallible. '. are in for some impudent affirmation or other. What ought we to divine in an author who ends by announcing that we are all infallible ? Doubt, presumably doubt in every direction and to the extremest degree. I am anxious not to disappoint this expectation. Indeed I would infect these last pages, if I could, with such a virulent culture of doubt that all critical certainties, except one, would wither in the minds for

;

We

'

.

.

We

;

PRESUPPOSITIONS AND CRITICAL PRECONCEPTIONS

305

Points of analysis would readers. since these are but tentative explorations of a subject-matter which future inquiries But critical cerwill penetrate far more deeply. of

all

their

remain unaffected,

convictions as to the value, and kinds of of kinds of poetry, might safely and with advantage decay, providedf there remained a firm sense of the importance of the critical act of choice, its difficulty, and the supreme exercise of all our faculties that it imposes. Mere acquiescent immersion in good poetry can give us, of course, much that is valuable. Acquiescent immersion in bad a entails corresponding penalty. But the poetry greater values can only be gained by making poetry the occasion for those momentous decisions of the The alluring solicitancy of the bad, the secret will. repugnancy of the good are too strong for us in most reading of poetry. Only by penetrating far more whole-mindedly into poetry than we usually attempt, and by collecting all our energies in our choice, can we overcome these treacheries within us. That is why good reading, in the end, is the whole secret of tainties,

value,

'

good judgment

'.

PART FOUR

SUMMARY AND RECOMMENDATIONS '

The son of the K'ung Clan (Confucius) climbed the Eastern Hillock and thought the State of Lu looked small he climbed the Great Mountain arid found All-below-the-sky inconsiderable. He who has gazed upon the ocean scorns other waters and he who Mencius

said

:

;

;

has entered in at the gate of enlightened of words.'

men

is critical

SUMMARY The

uncontrollable mystery on the bestial

floor.

W.

B.

YEATS.

THREE tasks remain, and this final part is accordingly divided under three heads. Under the first, I discuss the current state of culture, as it is indicated in the protocols, and some inferences to be drawn from it under the second, the services that psychological theory may afford us here, its uses and limitations under the third, the practical measures that seem advisable and possible. It is not inevitable, or in the nature of things, that poetry should seem such a ;

;

remote, mysterious, unmanageable thing to so large a majority of readers. The deficiencies so noticeable in the protocol writers (and, if we could be franker with ourselves, in our own reading) are not native inalterable defects in the average human mind. They are due in a large degree to mistakes that can be

avoided, and to bad training. In fact, does anyone ever receive any useful training in this matter ? Yet, without asking more from average humanity than

even a misanthrope will grant, something can be done to make men's spiritual heritage more available and more operative. Though I may seem to be traversing, in what follows, ground with which every teacher (and every person thrust into close contact with humanity) is familiar to the point of desperation, I am confident that the last word in this matter has not been spoken. A better technique, as we learn daily in other fields,

may

whole-hearted efforts

fall

yield results that the short of if misapplied. 309

most

And

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

3 io

the technique of the approach to poetry has not yet received half so much serious systematic study as the technique of pole-jumping. If it is easy to push up the general level of performance in such natural activities as running or jumping (not to insist upon the more parallel examples of mountaineering, fly'

fishing

and

power

to do.

'

merely by making a little careful inquiry into the best methods, surely there is reason to expect that investigation into the technique of reading may have even happier results. With this not extravagant hope to encourage us, let us try to see what exactly is needed, and what is within our golf)

I i. The standing of the men and women who supplied the protocols has been described in Part I (p. 3). With few exceptions they are products of the most expensive kind of education. I would like to repeat, with emphasis, that there is no reason whatever to suppose that a higher capacity for reading poetry will be manifested by any similar group anywhere in the world. Sons and daughters of other Universities who are tempted to think otherwise may be invited to bring experimental evidence collected But no experienced under the same conditions. teacher will be surprised by any of the protocols no teacher, at least, who has refrained from turning ;

his pupils into

sounding-boards that

reflect his

own

opinions. And, candidly, how many of us are convinced, with reason, that we would have made a better showing ourselves under these conditions ?

Thus

the gaps in these readers' First may be placed the general immaturity of the readers. Their average age would be between nineteen and twenty. Yet with several of the poems (notably Poems /, // and 2.

Immaturity.

equipment are very

significant.

SUMMARY

311

XIII) one important reason for erratic opinions seems undeniably to be lack of general experience, I wish very much that I could include as a frontispiece a good group photograph of the protocolIt would help us to realise, better than writers. of discussion, the concrete significance of some pages of these revelations. Statistics as to the proportion of the writers who are going later to be teachers

Yet it may be also assist this realisation. doubted whether any large proportion of those who showed themselves to be under age not in intelligence alone but in emotional development also are destined to become much more mature with the passage of time. In some respects the years will do their work, for good and ill, but in others (cf. Ch. V, p. 291) there is little reason to expect any essential change. Much though there is to be said, on general

would

anthropological grounds, in favour of a delayed maturity, an educational and social system which encourages a large proportion of its most endowed and favoured products to remain children permanently is

exposing itself to danger. The point is a familiar I merely bring my mite of evidence.

one

;

3.

Lack of Reading.

A

strong suspicion that

I

developed in looking over the protocols, that the women- writers were of higher average discernment than the men,

is

perhaps relevant in this connection. of nineteen is generally her final settled character,

For the young woman supposed to be nearer to in most respects, than the better explanation would

A

equivalent young man. be the greater familiarity with poetry that is certainly possessed by the average lack of experience with poetry must be girl. to general inexperience of life in this next placed list of deficiencies. large number of writers showed which one fact knew well enough already) clearly (a that they had hardly any reading at all to serve them

A

A

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

3 i2

background and means of orientation. And those who did try to use their background often the naivety of their outlook and the poverty proved of their literary experience by the comparisons and identifications they made. Apart from this wide it is hard to see how any but the most experience gifted readers can help being impressed, for example, by work which is merely & feeble echo of something else. We may sometimes say, then, that it is the original work which is at second-hand the source of as a

readers

We

must acknowledge that very the impression. of the worship that a more experienced and better reader may condemn as too facile is merely faute de mieux worship. Also, but more rarely, the condition of poetic starvation appears. The reader, having discovered some value in poetry, swallows all he can of it for a while, hoping that it will do him good, and improve his taste, even when he does not really like it. But there is not a great deal of this in could have safely inferred from our examples. the protocols that the relatively cultivated youth of our age spends extremely little of its time over poetry,

much

We

Partly to this well-recognised fact, but partly to more interesting causes, we may trace the widespread inability to construe meaning, which is perhaps the deficiency made most apparent 4. Construing.

in

my

selections.

But

it is

experience of poetry who appear to have read widely

endeavour to understand,

not only those with fail

in this.

seem or,

to at

little

Some who

make

little

least,

to

or no remain

strangely unsuccessful. Indeed, the more we study this matter the more we shall find a love for poetry '

'

accompanied by an incapacity to understand or construe it. This construing, we must suppose, is not natural a performance as we nearly so easy and '

tend to assume.

It

'

is

a

craft,

in

the sense that

mathematics, cooking, and shoemaking are crafts.

SUMMARY

313

It can be taught. And though some gifted individuals can go far in the strength of their own sagacity alone, instruction and practice are very necessary for others. The best methods of instruction remain to be worked At present, apart from not very satisfactory out.

exercises in translation

some

still

less

from other languages and

satisfactory experiments with precis this instruction ceases at

writing and paraphrasing,

!

too early a stage. No attempt at imparting a reasoned general technique for construing has yet been made. Perhaps because the need for it has not been

Two

sufficiently realised. problems for reflection, suggested by this low capacity in construing, may be noted, (i) What is the worth of poetry for readers

who can

cannot make out what it means ? (2) How far expect such readers to show themselves

we

imaginative and discriminating in their intimate relations with other human beings ? Neither question can be answered summarily, certainly not But it is not doubtful the second (see 10, below). that certain sentimental addictions to poetry are of little value, or that this poor capacity to interpret complex and unfamiliar meanings is a source of endless loss, for those whose lives need not be narrowly standardised at a low level. If anything can be done, educationally, that is not already being done to improve it, the attempt would be worth much trouble. This defect in our equipment is so essential a point for any student of poetry to realise, and so neglected, that I need not apologise for the emphasis intelligent,

'

4

laid

upon

it

in

what follows.

Closely connected with this incapacity to apprehend unusual meanings is the fatal facility with which usual meanings reappear when they are not wanted. Great stress was laid in Part III upon this tendency of our acquired responses to intervene in situations to which they are not 5.

Stock Responses.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

314

If we appropriate, and little need be added here. wish for a population easy to control by suggestion

we

shall decide

what repertory of suggestions

it

shall

be susceptible to and encourage this tendency except in the few. But if we wish for a high and diffused civilisation, with its attendant risks, we shall combat In either case, since this form of mental inertia.

most of the protocol writers would certainly regard themselves as belonging to the few, rather than the

many, were such a division to be proposed, we shall do well to recognise how much of the value of existence is daily thrust from us by our stock responses, necessary though a substratum of stable and routine mental habits

may

be.

As

special cases of these inappropriate acquired responses certain tests, criteria and presuppositions as to what is to be admired or 6. Preconceptions.

:

despised in poetry proved their power to hide what was actually present. A pretension to knowledge of such criteria is sometimes linked with a certain temptation, never lurking far below the surface, to teach the poet his business. But, apart from this

motive, a serious but less arrogant reader, unprovided with any such criteria, theories and principles, often feels himself distressingly at a loss before a poem. Too sheer a challenge to his own unsupported self seems to be imposed. The desire to condense his past experience, or to invoke doughty authority,

form of a critical maxim, is constantly overwhelming. Without some objective criteria, by which poetry can be tested, and the good distinguished from the bad, he feels like a friendless man deprived of weapons and left naked at the mercy of a treacherin the

ous beast. We decided that the treacherous beast was within him, that critical weapons unless too elaborate to be employed would only hurt him, that his own experience not as represented in a

SUMMARY

315

its available entirety was his only if and that he could safeguard, rely sufficiently upon this, he could only profit from his encounter with the

formula but in

poem. 7.

But

Bewilderment.

this advice,

however well

meant, can perhaps only further perplex that great

body of readers whose

first and last reaction to poetry a hardly response) is bewilderment. An overtone of despairing helplessness haunts the protocols in a degree that my selections do not sufficiently is (it

display.

omitted a great mass of sit-on-the-fence Without further clues (authorship, period,

I

opinion. school, the sanction of an anthology, or the hint of a context) the task of making up their minds about it ', or even of working out a number of possible '

views from which to choose, was felt to be really beyond their powers. The extraordinary variety of the views put forward, and the reckless, desperate character of so many of them, indicate the difficulty that was felt, and how unprepared for such a testing encounter the majority of the readers were. It should surely be possible, even without devoting more time or trouble to the reading of English than is

given at present, to prepare them better, and

them more reasonably

make

self-reliant.

The protocols show, equally, how matter of entirely a authority the rank of famous poets, as it is accepted and recognised by public 8.

Authority.

opinion, must be. Without the control of this rather mysterious, traditional authority, poets of the most established reputations would very quickly and surprisingly change their places in general approval. This is, if we pursue it, a disturbing reflection, for it should lead us to question very closely the quality of the reading \ve ordinarily give to authors \vhose rank and character have been officially settled. There cannot be much doubt that when we know we are

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

316

reading Milton or Shelley, a great deal of our approval and admiration is being accorded not to the Conversely, if we did not poetry but to an idol. know that we were reading Ella Wheeler Wilcox, much of our amusement or patronising condescension might easily be absent. Far more than we like to admit, we take a hint fqr our response from the Whether we assent or dissent, poet's reputation. the traditional view runs through our response like the wire upon which a climbing plant is trained. And without it there is no knowing at what conclusion we might not have arrived. The attempt to read without this guidance puts a strain upon us that we are little accustomed to.

Within

We

it is a learn how salutary strain. are indebted to the work of other minds

limits

much we

that have established the tradition, at the same time that we become aware of its dangers. And we discover what a comparatively relaxed and inattentive activity our ordinary reading of established poetry is.

Even those who have won their

a

deserved eminence

who have

critical

worthily through ability, occupied Chairs of Poetry and taken their part in handing on the torch of tradition retrimmed, would probably admit in their secret souls that they had not read many poems with the care and attention that these anonymous items, under these conditions, But while we become, through such reflecinvite. tions, on the one hand more ready to question tradition,

we become on

our dependence upon

the other

more

sensible of

it.

It was interesting to observe the 9. Variability. wide range of quality that many individual readers varied through. They would pass, with contiguous poems, from a very high level of discernment to a relatively startling obtuseness, and often force one to consider very closely whether what appeared to be

SUMMARY

317

so stupid did not mask unexpected profundity, and whether the obtuseness was really where one hoped it was. The odds, I know, are much against my having escaped this danger. I have not illustrated these variations, for such studies of individual readers would have taken this book too far from its main path, and made what is already a complex investigaNor have I attempted to trace tion too unwieldy. carefully any correlations between approval of one type of poem and disapproval of another, and so I have only a strong impression that such forth. correlations would be difficult to find as, indeed, on theoretical grounds seeing how complex the But this inconditions are we should expect. dividual variability in discernment was striking ;

enough to deserve notice. It has the comforting moral attached to it that however baffled we may be by one poem, we may still be extraordinarily acute with another with a poem perhaps that to most Some of these unreaders proves more difficult. to fatigue. down I am be evennesses may put inclined to think that four poems are too many for a week's reading absurd though this suggestion will seem to those godlike lords of the syllabus-world, who think that the whole of English Literature can be perused with profit in about a year But apart from fatigue there are other very evident reasons why critical capacity should vary. Making up our minds about a poem is the most delicate We have to gather of all possible undertakings. !

'

'

millions of fleeting semi-independent impulses into a momentary structure of fabulous complexity, whose core or germ only is given us in the words. What

we

'

make up

our minds,

',

that

momentary trembling order

in

exposed to countless irrelevant influences. Health, wakefulness, distractions, hunger and other instinctive tensions, the very quality of the air

we

is

breathe, the humidity, the light,

all affect

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

3i8

No one at all sensitive to rhythm, for example, doubt that the new pervasive, almost ceaseless, mutter or roar of modern transport, replacing the us.

will

rhythm of the footstep or of horses' hoofs, is capable of interfering in many ways with our reading of Thus it is no matter for surprise if we find verse. 1 ourselves often unable tc, respond in any relevant and coherent fashion. What is indeed remarkable is that we should should pretend that we can even usually do so. be better advised to acknowledge frankly that, when people put poems in our hands (point to pictures, or play us music), what we say, in nine cases out of ten, has nothing to do with the poem, but arises from politeness or spleen or some other social motive. It cannot arise from the poem if the poem is not yet there in our minds, and it hardly ever, in fact, is there, under such public and hurried conditions of reading. It would be an excellent thing if all the critical chitchat which we produce on these occasions were universally recognised to be what it

We

'

phatic communion '. But though people to whom tone is more interesting than either sense or feeling have always treated it as such, the sincere and innocent reader is much too easily is,

social gesture,

bounced into emptying his mind by any literary highwayman who says, I want your opinion ', and much too easily laid low because he has nothing to produce on these occasions. He might be com'

if he knew how many professionals make a of carrying stocks of imitation currency, crisp point and bright, which satisfy the highwaymen and are all that even the wealthiest critic in these emergencies

forted

can supply. 1 Mr T. S. Eliot, than whom there could be no more qualified observer, has suggested that the internal combustion engine may already have altered our perception of rhythms. (Preface to Savonarola, by Charlotte Eliot.)

SUMMARY 10.

General Values.

It is

319

natural to inquire

how

far insensitiveness, poor discrimination, and a feeble capacity to understand poetry imply a corresponding

apprehend and make use of the values of This is a large and awkward question ordinary which we shall answer in different ways as our Two Answers, however, would experience varies. the view that a man who is be wrong certainly be as stupid with life, and must with poetry stupid in literary matters implies obtuseness that view the Doubtless to some degree no general disabilities. inability to

life.

:

poetry, like the other arts,

is

a secret discipline to

which some initiation is needed. Some readers are excluded from it simply because they have never discovered, and have never been taught, how to Poetry translates into its special sensory language a great deal that is given in the ordinary daily intercourse between minds by gesture, tones of voice, and expression, and a reader who is very quick and discerning in these matters may fail for purely technical reasons to apprehend the very same enter.

things when they are given in verse. He will be in the same sad case as those Bubis of Fernando Po, who need to see one another before they understand what is said. On the other hand, it is sometimes not difficult in reading through the protocols to distinguish those who are incapacitated by this ignorance and lack of skill in reading from those whose failure has deeper causes. And, moreover, those who

have naturally a fine imagination and discrimination, who have a developed sensibility to the values of life, do seem to find the password to poetry with great ease. For there is no such gulf between poetry and life as over-literary persons sometimes suppose. There is no gap between our everyday emotional life

The verbal expression of this life, at its finest, is forced to use the technique of poetry ; that is the only essential difference. and the material of poetry.

We

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

320

cannot avoid the material of poetry. in consonance with

good poetry,

If we do we must

not live live

in

consonance with bad poetry. And, in fact, the idle hours of most lives are filled with reveries that are simply bad private poetry. On the whole evidence, I do not see how we can avoid the conclusion that a general insensitivity to poetry does witness a low

There are other level of general imaginative life. reasons for thinking that this century is in a cultural trough rather than upon a crest. I need not expatiate here upon them. But the situation appears sufficiently serious to force us to consider very carefully what influences are available as remedies. When nature and tradition, or rather our contemporary social and economic conditions, betray us, it is reasonable to reflect whether we cannot deliberately contrive artificial means of correction.

arguable that mechanical inventions, with and a too sudden diffusion of are disturbing throughout the indigestible ideas, world the whole order of human mentality, that our It

is

their social effects,

minds

are, as it were, becoming of thin, brittle and patchy, rather

an inferior shape than controllable

and coherent. It is possible that the burden of information and consciousness that a growing mind

may be too much for its natural too much already, it may soon not strength. become so, for the situation is likely to grow worse before it is better. Therefore, if there be any means has

now

to carry If

it is

by which we may

strengthen our minds' avail ourselves of them. And of all possible means, Poetry, the unique, linguistic instrument by which our minds have ordered their thoughts, emotions, desires It in the past, seems to be the most serviceable. may well be a matter of some urgency for us, in the interests of our standard of civilisation, to make this From highest form of language more accessible. artificially

capacity to order themselves,

we must

.

.

.

SUMMARY

321

the beginning civilisation has been dependent upon speech, for words are our chief link with the past and with one another and the channel of our spiritual inheritance. As the other vehicles of tradition, the family and the community, for example, are dissolved, we are forced more and more to rely upon

language. 9 Yet, as the protocols show, such reliance as we Not a place in it at present is quite unjustified. tenth of the power of poetry is released for the It general benefit, indeed, not a thousandth part. fails, not through its own fault, but through our ineptitude as readers. Is there no means to give the educated individual a better receptive command of these resources of language ? '

'

II

The psychologist is when he approaches these

Abuse of Psychology.

ii.

properly suspect to-day

A

topics.

shudder

a likely,

is

and

some degree

to

a

he can be

justified, response to the suggestion that called in to assist us in reading poetry.

Statistical

'

*

of different forms of efficiency inquiries into the into of imagery, into the relative composition, types and of verbs frequency adjectives, of liquids, sibilants classifications of and fricatives in various authors of that motives drives ', may be employed literary into the writers ; by inquiries proportions of sex;

'

'

'

*

'

*

measurements of emotional represent of ', degree of facility in integration ', of of of or effects retention artistically gradings appeal sponse

;

*

*

'

'

;

'

such things will make any reader of poetry feel curiously uncomfortable. And it is worse still with the efforts of some psychoeffective associations

;

analysts to elucidate masterpieces which they are clearly approaching for the first time and only for

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

322

Poetry has suffered too

this purpose.

much

already

from those who are merely looking for something to investigate and those who wish to exercise some

The best among the expericherished theory. mentalists and the analysts will agree over this. But between these two extreme wings of the psychological forces there is the comparatively neglected and unheard-oi' middle body, the cautious, academic,

traditional, logists

who have been

semi-philosophical psychofrom the vigorous

profiting

manoeuvres of the advanced wings and are now much more ready than they were twenty years ago to take a

hand

reader,

in the application of the science. The general whose ideas as to the methods and endeavours

of psychologists derive more from the popularisers of Freud or from the Behaviourists than from students of Stout or Ward, needs perhaps some assurance that it is possible to combine an interest

and

psychological inquiries with a due of the complexity of poetry. Yet a appreciation who to this main belongs body is psychologist in the the last to underrate world person perhaps this complexity. Unfortunately, the subject-matter of psychology to a centrist is so immense that few have been able to devote much attention to literature. Thus this field has been left rather too open to irresponsible incursions. faith

in

If we propose to look closely 12. Profanation. into the mental processes active in the reading of poetry a certain reluctance or squeamishness will

often be

*

felt.

We

murder

to dissect

',

someone

will

This prejudice must be countered. No psychological dissection can do harm, except to minds which are in a pathological condition. The fear that to look too closely may be damaging to what we care about is a sign of a weak or ill-balanced interest. There is a certain frivolity of the passions

murmur.

SUMMARY

323

that does not imply a greater delicacy, a more perfect sensibility, but only a trifling or flimsy constitution. Those who care too much for poetry to examine it Such closely are probably flattering themselves. be their pictured explaining exquisites may objections to Coleridge or to Schiller. But we should recognise how grim the prospect would be if these scruples were justified. For it is as certain as anything can be that in time psychology will overhaul most of our ideas about ourselves, and will give us a very detailed account of our mental I am not prepared to argue that the activities. acceptance of inept ideas about ourselves will not '

'

Damage is very likely already prove damaging. being done, in America and elsewhere, by elementary courses in Behaviourism, and by a too simplified Yet it is not the stimulus-response psychology. which is harmful, but the inquiry stopping short of be It would no better, doubt, for the inquiry. immediate prospects of poetry that we should content ourselves with our traditional notions than accept in their place ideas too simple to mark any of the dis' the spiritual distinctions. tinctions which matter But this is not the only option we are allowed. '

A

naturalistic

psychology

that

observes

these

finer

distinctions in for a

is possible, though civilisation is perhaps bad time before it arrives, and has become

generally accepted. Watson in place of the Bible, or in place of Confucius or Buddha, as a source of our fundamental conceptions about ourselves is an alarming prospect. But the remedy of putting the clock

back

impracticable. Inquiry cannot be stopped only possible course is to hasten, so far as we can, the development of a psychology which will ignore none of the facts and yet demolish none of the values that human experience has shown to be necessary. An account of poetry will be a pivotal

now.

is

The

point in such a psychology.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

324

The understanding of 13. Prudential Speech. is an art which we are supposed to acquire speech by the light of nature through the operation of sundry instincts and to perfect by dint of practice. That in most cases it remains very imperfect indeed is the principal contention of this book. During the of of the earlier stages acquisition language in childit is at school hood and early years possible that nature works well enough, though the researches of 1 Piaget suggest that considerable assistance might be given. But after a certain stage, when the individual has become fairly competent, the pressure of the need to understand ever more and more finely Errors and failures no longer so clearly relaxes. entail the penalty of being left out. Nor are they so child of eight is constantly made easily exposed. At to feel that he is not understanding something. chiefly

A

eighteen he may misunderstand nearly as often, but the testing instance, which makes him realise that this

is

Unless either his infrequently arises. or his studies are exceptional, he will rarely

so,

company

be forced to face any such disagreeable facts. For he will have acquired enough skill in the reproduction of more or less appropriate language to disguise most of his failures both from the world and from himself. He can answer questions in a way which may convince everybody, himself included, that he understands them. He may be able to translate difficult passages with every sign of discernment, write passable essays and converse with great apparent intelligence upon many subjects. Yet in spite of these

acquirements he

may be making at innumerable Mr Russell once called, in connection what points, and number with the words two, a purely prudential use of language/ That is, he may be using words not because he knows with any precision what he means by them, but because he knows how they are *

J

The Language and Thought of the Child.

SUMMARY

325

ordinarily used, and does with them what he has heard other people do with them before. He strings them together in suitable sequences, manoeuvres them aptly enough, produces with them pretty well the effects he intends, yet meanwhile he may have not much more inkling of what he is really (or should be) doing with them than % telephone-girl need have of the inner wiring of the switchboard she operates so deftly. He may merely be in the condition that Conrad ascribed to those Russians who pour words out with such an aptness of application sometimes that, as in the case of very accomplished parrots, one can't defend oneself from the suspicion that they 1 really understand what they say '. '

may make this accusation seem less unjustifiable we underline really, and then ask ourselves how

It if

most enlightened, most conscious we would be prepared moments, vigilant claim such understanding ourselves. Under-

often, even in our

and most to

standing so

is

very evidently an affair of degree, never

consummate

ment. greater

All

be insusceptible of improvethe that the masters of life say sometimes seem to show such an as to

we can

poets

is

understanding and control of language that we cannot imagine a further perfection. And judged, not by this exalted standard, but by a much humbler order of perceptions, we can be certain that most well-educated persons remain, under present-day conditions, far below the level of capacity at which, by social convention, they are supposed to stand. As to the less well-educated genius apart they '

'

'

'

inhabit chaos. Few sincere

minds will perhaps, in their private be councils, prepared to dispute this, however much the pretensions which are socially imposed upon us may force us to deny it. But to fathom the implications of this situation 1

we

shall

need to make some

Under \Vestern Eyes,

p. 3.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

326

What do we understand

here by this loose and of senses Various understanding word invite our attention. ambiguous distinctions.

'

'

?

Understanding. To take the most primitive first, we shall agree that when nothing whatever happens in our minds beyond the mere perception of the sound or shape of words as words, we do not understand them. Comparatively, any thoughts or feelings or impulses stirred into activity by the words, and seemingly directed towards something which the words represent, are a beginning of understanding. In this primitive sense it is possible that a dog or a horse may come to understand a few words and In a more developed instance we underphrases. stand when the words prompt in us action or emotion appropriate to the attitude of the person who speaks them. Animals achieve this level also, and much of the conversation we address to infants asks only for this degree of understanding. (This aim a blend of tone and intention continues in some degree perhaps through all human intercourse right up to the highest utterances of the philosopher.) At a third level understanding implies some degree of intellectual discrimination. are required to distinguish the thought invited by the words from other thoughts more or less like it. The words may mean This not That ', the nearness of This to That corresponding to the precision of the thought invited. 14.

sense

'

'

'

r

'

We

'

Here we meet with our

first

opportunity

for

deceiving ourselves as to the quality of our understanding. For as soon as we pass out of the realm of immediate action or nai've emotional expression,

soon as pointing and touching, seeing and trying can no longer be applied as a test of our understanding, we have to fall back upon other words. If we wish to prove to other persons that we have really discriminated the This from That, our only method

as

SUMMARY will

to

327

be to produce some description of This and That

make

Now

their

difference clear. use of such descriptions

a

'

purely is not difficult prudential to acquire. It need not be accompanied by any If we are precise thoughts of either This or That. do What mean and so ? so asked, by you by '

'

'

understanding, for example, we can usually reply by giving a few other words that experience has taught us can be used in its place. reply, I mean comthe sense, realising the signiprehending, grasping the ficance, seizing meaning, that's what I mean ', and it does not follow in the least that because we can supply these alternative locutions we have any precise ideas upon the matter. This dictionary under-

We

'

standing, as it may be called, has long been recognised as an insidious substitute for more authentic kinds of understanding in the elementary stages of all those

sciences in

operation

is

which

definitions are required. really much more extensive.

But

No

its

one

with experience of philosophical discussion will confidently set bounds to it, and we are all in danger of becoming philosophers as soon as we attempt to explain our use of words or draw distinctions between our thoughts.

The real danger of dictionary understanding is that so easily prevents us from perceiving the limitations of our understanding a disadvantage inseparable from the advantage it gives us of concealing them from our friends. parallel disguise with similar is available for the other chief form disadvantages of communication. In addition to directing a fairly precise thought, most language simultaneously endeavours to excite some refinement of feeling. As we have seen above, this function of language fails at least as often as the communication of sense. And our means of discovering for ourselves whether we have or have not understood this feeling correctly are even less satisfactory than in the case of thought. it

;

A

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

328

a rule, only close contact with persons who are exacting in this respect can give us the necessary training. They must be exacting in the sense of with discrimination what feeling we apprenoticing of hend, not, course, in the sense of constantly Most certain definite feelings from us. demanding of our devices for exhibiting feeling through words are so crude that we easify convince ourselves and

As

we have understood more perfectly than in the case. is, fact, Humanity's pathetic need for Thus sympathy also encourages this illusion. others that

dictionary understanding of feeling, treacherous as with sense.

though

less glib,

is as

Similar considerations apply to the other two forms of understanding the apprehension of tone and of intention. 1 Subtleties of tone are rarely some special training. The without appreciated gift reaches its heights perhaps only in certain In the same way the favourable social settings. 2

man engaged

all

his days in intricate (and preferably

shady) negotiations most easily becomes an expert Natural divining other people's intentions. shrewdness and sensibility (a phrase which covers in

deep mysteries) sometimes compensate for these specially favourable settings.

Even for a reader who has a good 15. Confusions. in all these four kinds of understanding yet ability further dangers lie in wait. Pre-eminently the danger of mistaking one function of language for another, of taking for a statement what is merely the expression of a feeling, and vice versa, or of interpreting a modification due to tone as an indication of irrelevant intention. These confusions to which all complex 1

'

Yet other senses of understanding can, of course, be constructed a sense in which understanding' is contrasted with 'knowledge,' for example. But I am anxious here to keep my treatment as simple and unspeculative as possible. 2 As an example, consider the social development of Julien in Le '

Rouge

et le

Noir.

'

SUMMARY

329

or subtle writing is much exposed have been illustrated and discussed above. As soon as metaphorical or figurative uses of speech are introduced, and such writings can rarely avoid them, these dangers become much increased. I have made, since the bulk of this book was prepared, some further experiments with the paraphrasing of fairly simple figurative

and semi-allegorical passages. They more than corroborate what was shown by the protocols here

Not nearly thirty per cent, of a University audience are to be trusted not to misinterpret such language. The facts are such that only experienced teachers would credit a statement of them apart from the evidence. 1 I hope to be able to give it, and given.

discuss the theory future work.

of interpretation

further

in

a

This separation or disentanglement of the four language functions is not an easy matter. Even to state the distinctions between them clearly if we are to go cult.

beyond dictionary understanding

What

is

thought

?

What

is

?

is diffi-

How are

feeling attitude to us (or to a hypothetical listener) from his intention ? And what is an attitude or what an intention ? To be able to

we

to separate a writer's

answer these questions is not, of course, necessary good understanding of a phrase involving

for the

All that is required is that the actually receive each separate con-

these four functions.

mind should tributory

meaning without confusion.

It is

not even

desirable, as a rule, that it should think of the feeling, the tone and the intention. It is sufficient if it think

of the sense.

when

The

other meanings are best received, in its appropriate more direct each possible,

and immediate manner. thought

may come

But when

difficulty arises,

to the rescue.

But when the root and stem (in our nurseries, preparatory schools and public schools) are as we know them to be, ought we to be surprised that the flower and crown are imperfect ? 1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

330

1

to put these distinctions rather simply, is a direction of the receptive side of the mind, a sort of mental pointing to 1

6.

Further Dissection.

Thought,

one kind of object or another. We may think by means of images, or words, or by other less describable means, but what is important is not the means but

We

the result. turn our attention this way or that to perceive or contemplate something. Thought thus implies something else, not itself, which is what the 2 its object. thought is of In contrast, a feeling does not imply an object. It is a state of the mind. It is not necessarily directed to anything, or of anything. It is true that we can speak of a feeling of pity or of anger ', but this is clearly a different use of the word of '. No confusion should arise, although sometimes we may use the word in both ways at once, as when we speak of a sensation of blue '. (' Feeling ', too, we use in all I feel chilly '/I feel you ought to ', kinds of ways. I feel doubtful '. It is the Jack-of-all-trades in the '

'

'

'

*

'

'

c

*

*

*

psychologist's vocabulary.) So far as feeling ', in the sense I am giving it here, seems to have an object, to imply something towards which it is directed, it gets this direction *

from an accompanying thought or from an accompanying intention. For intentions, too, have objects, though the relation of an intention to its object is not the same as that between a thought and either

its

object.

An

intention

is

a direction of the active

These definitions are merely those which seem to me, for my Like all similar definitions they can purpose here, most convenient neither be right nor wrong, but only more or less serviceable. They are not identical with those I should use for other purposes, and have, in fact, used elsewhere. All that is needed is that they should be intelligible and should correspond with the facts in nature to which attention is to be directed. 2 The kind of relation for which this word 'of here stands is discussed at length in The Meaning of Meaning, Second Edition, Ch. Ill, and Principles of Literary Criticism, pp. 85-91. See also 1

.

Appendix A, Note

5.

SUMMARY

331

(not the receptive) side of the mind. It is a phenomenon of desire not of knowledge. Like a thought, it may be more or less vague, and it is exposed to analogous forms of error. Just as a thought may be actually directed to something other than it professes to be directed to, so with an intention. may, in

We

fact, be trying to do something different from what we seem to ourselves to be aiming for. (I intend by

from that common which we persuade ourselves by thinking that we desire something that, in fact, we do not at all desire.) A feeling is thus an innocent and unfallacious thing in comparison with thoughts and intentions. It may arise through immediate stimulation without

this to indicate a different case

form of error

in

the

intervention of either thought or intention. Musical sounds, colours, odours, the squeaking of

quill-pens, the skins of peaches, scissor-grinding, these can excite feelings without our minds

all

being

directed thereby to anything. But incipient attention and action ordinarily accompany even the slightest arousal of feeling. The most elaborate feelings in us, however, only through thought and develop intention. Thought turns the mind to certain objects (presents them to us), or some intention is furthered

or thwarted, and feeling ensues. There are two important senses in which we can understand the feeling of a passage. We can either just ourselves undergo the same feeling or we can think of the feeling. Often in witnessing a play, for example, we think of the feelings of the charbut the acters, undergo feeling the whole action we can and do make mistakes conveys. Obviously in both forms of understanding. Much the same is true of the apprehension of tone, our appreciation of the speaker's attitude towards us. His attitude invites a complimentary attitude from us. So we *

'

can either simply adopt

this attitude (thereby in

one

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

332

'

'

his attitude), or think of his recognising attitude (perceive it, thereby recognising it in quite

sense

'

'

another sense).

The actual arousal in ourselves either of the feeling or of the complimentary attitude may take place directly or through our awareness of sense or in-

An alarmed chimpanzee utters a peculiar which cry instantly throws his fellows in the group into a state of sympathetic alarm. So it is with tention.

The cadence

of a phrase may inTone, stigate a feeling without any intermediaries.

humanity, too.

also,

we seem

understand sometimes directly. good reason to expect us to The same may be true of simple

to

Biologically, there

is

have this capacity. cases of intention especially intentions which regard ourselves, but more complex cases require (as we saw in Part III, Ch. II) careful study of the sense, grotesque mistakes are to be avoided. But here again to recognise an intention is not quite the same thing as to think of it. if

'

'

Innumerable cross influences and these four kinds of meaning between complications are possible, and frequently present, in what may appear a quite simple remark. A perfect understanding would involve not only an accurate direction of thought, a correct evocation of feeling, an exact apprehension of tone and a precise recognition of intention, but further it would get these contributory meanings in their right order and proportion to one another, and seize though not in terms of explicit thought their interdependence upon one another, their sequences and interrelations. For the value of a passage frequently hangs upon 17. Order.

this internal order

among

its

contributory meanings.

If feeling, for example, too much governs thought, or, in another case, if thought too much controls feeling, the result may be disastrous, even though

SUMMARY

333

thought and feeling in themselves are as good as can be. More obviously perhaps, a proper feeling, presented not in

its

own

right or in right of the thought,

but in undue deference to the reader (tone), or to cajole him (intention), will lose its sanction, unless the author saves the situation either by successfully concealing this fact or by a suitable avowal. But the exact tone of this avowal will be all-important. It would be tedious to continue upon this aspect of meaning without giving examples, and these would take up too many of these pages. If a mind is valuable, not because it possesses sound ideas, refined feelings, social skill and good intentions, but because these admirable things stand in their proper relations to one another, we should expect this order to be represented in its utterances, and the discernment of this order to be necessary for understanding. Once this is not same discernment the again, however, as an intellectual of the Total thing analysis Meaning

into

its

It is an actual formation in contributories. mind of a whole condition of feeling

the receptive

and awareness corresponding, in due order, to the original meaning which is being discerned. Without some discernment analysis would plainly be impossible. We have now to consider whether practice such analysis could possibly lead to in the capacity to discern. in

improvement

Ill

The Teaching of English l I am not aware that any work has been done that would test this sugges1

8

.

.

Those who wish to acquaint themselves with the methods employed in schools could hardly do better than to consult the Report of the Departmental Committee appointed by the President of the Board of Education into the position of English in the educational system of England, entitled The Teaching of English in England (H.M. Stationery Office, 1921, is. 6d.) and the Memorandum on the Teaching oj English, issued by the Incorporated 1

;

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

334

tion. Exercises in parsing and paraphrasing are not the kind of analyses I have in view. And I have not heard of any schoolmaster who may have attempted to make a systematic discussion of the forms of meaning and the psychology of understanding part of his teaching. I have met not a few, however, who would treat the suggestion with an amused or indignant Fill the children's heads with What contempt. It is quite hard enough already a lot of abstractions THE MEANING to get them to grasp one meaning let alone four or sixteen, or whatever it is They couldn't understand a word you were talking about.' I have been the less discouraged by such remarks, however, by the perception that some of the speakers were in precisely the same case. But even if any teacher should have wished to experiment in this way, it is difficult to see where he would have *

!

!

!

obtained his intellectual instruments from. Neither the critics nor the psychologists as yet have provided them in any serviceable form. Indeed, it is the oddest thing about language, whose history is full of odd things (and one of the oddest facts about human development) that so few people have ever sat down to reflect systematically about meaning. 1 For no daring or original steps are needed to carry our acquaintance with these matters at least a step further than the stage at which it usually remains. A little pertinacity and a certain habit of examining our intellectual and emotional instruments as we use them, is all that is required. From the point of view thus attained one would expect that our libraries would be full of works on the theory of interpretation, the Association of Assistant Masters

in Secondary Schools (Cambridge University Press, 1927, 35. 6d.). But Mr George Sampson's English on no account should be the overlooked. It says some English for plain things in a plain way, with passion and with point. 1 Cf. The Meaning of Meaning, Ch. II, where evidence is brought to show that the ground for our reluctance to inquire too closely into language lies deep in the early beliefs of the race.

SUMMARY

335

diagnosis of linguistic situations, systematic amand biguity and the functions of complex symbols that there would be Chairs of Signifies or of General Linguistic at all our Universities. Yet, in point of fact, there is no respectable treatise on the theory of ;

linguistic interpretation in existence, and no person whose professional occupation it is to inquire into these questions and direct *study in the matter. For

grammatical studies do not trespass upon this topic. Surely systematic investigation of the uses of language may be expected to improve our actual daily use of it, at least in the same measure that the study of plant-physiology may improve agriculture or human physiology assist medicine or hygiene. There is no other human activity for which theory bears so small a proportion to practice. Even the theory of football has been more thoroughly inquired into. And if we is most responsible for this neglect, the answer should probably be Vanity '. We are with difficulty persuaded that we have much to learn about language, or that our understanding of it is And this illusion re-forms whenever it is defective.

ask what

'

shattered, though any efficient educational procedure ought to have no trouble in shattering it as often as The first condition for improvement in is needed. the adult's use of language must be to disturb this

ludicrous piece of self-deception.

There is little room 19. Practical Suggestions. doubt that some progress in this direction can be made through such experiments as the one upon which this book is based. We are quicker to detect our own errors when they are duplicated by our fellows, and readier to challenge a pretension when But the logic of the situation it is worn by another. can be made in time too strong even for the vainest. for

And when

a systematic publicity is given to these ordinary phenomena of misinterpretation that usually

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

336

remain

cunningly hidden, the stoutest selfshaken. Language is primarily a social and it is not surprising that the best way product, to display its action is through the agency of a group. The only way perhaps to change our attitude to language is to accumulate enough evidence as to the degree to which it can be misunderstood. But the evidence must not only be accumulated, it must be pressed home. The wild interpretations of others must not be regarded as the antics of incompetents, but as dangers that we ourselves only narrowly escape, if, indeed, we do. We must see in the misso

confidence

is

readings of others the actualisation of possibilities threatened in the early stages of our own readings. The only proper attitude is to look upon a successful interpretation, a correct understanding, as a triumph must cease to regard a misinteragainst odds.

We

pretation as a mere treat it as the normal

But

this distrustful attitude takes us

way towards a cure. power of

diagnosis,

that interpretations

We

unlucky accident. and probable event.

We must,

if

but a

possible,

must little

gain some

some understanding of the risks run, and some capacity to detect

what has occurred. This may be considered too abstruse and baffling a matter, bad enough for the determined adult, tional suggestion.

and self-condemning

The

is

as an educathat those who think

reply so have probably forgotten how abstruse and baffling every subject is until it has been studied and the best methods of learning it and of teaching it have It would have seemed been worked out. fairly absurd if somebody in the seventeenth century had suggested that the Method of Fluxions (though with an improved notation) could be profitably studied

by schoolboys, and not very long ago Elementary Biology would have seemed a very odd subject to teach to children. With innumerable such instances behind us, we ought to hesitate before deciding

SUMMARY that a

Theory of Interpretation

337

in

some

slightly

more

advanced and simplified form (with perhaps a new notation and nomenclature to help it) may not quite soon take the foremost place in the literary subjects of all ordinary schools. No one would pretend that

propounded in this book is ready, and wide application. immediate s^nds, But a very strong case can, I think, be made out, both for the need and the possibility of practical No one who considers steps towards applying it. the protocols closely, or considers with candour his the the- ry as

as

it

it is

for

own capacity to interpret complex language, will, I think, deny the need. As to the possibility, the only improvements in training that can be suggested must be based upon a closer study of meaning and of the causes of unnecessary misunderstanding. This, then, may be made a positive recommendano longer contion, that an inquiry into language

fused with the grammarian's inquiry into syntax and into comparative linguistic morphology, or with the logician's or the philologist's studies be recognised as a vital branch of research, and treated no longer as the peculiar province of the whimsical amateur. But it is possible without too much rashness to go

However incomplete, tentative, or, indeed, speculative we may consider our present views on further.

this subject, they are far

some experimental

enough advanced

applications,

if

to justify

not in the school

If it be period then certainly at the Universities. is no time for an additional subject, there that replied we can answer by challenging the value of the time at present spent in extensive reading. very slight improvement in the capacity to understand would so immensely increase the value of this time that part of it would be exchanged with advantage for direct

A

training in reading. This applies quite as such studies as economics, psychology,

Y

much

to

political

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

338

theory, theology, law or philosophy, as to literature. For though the material handled in this book has not allowed me to demonstrate it (except perhaps in ways which I should deplore), quite as many readers

blunder unnecessarily over intricate argumentation as over poetry. And a direct study of interpretation here can be made quite as useful. The incidental training that every one is supposed to

and exposition

receive in the course of studying other subjects is too fragmentary, accidental and unsystematic to Sooner or later interpretation serve this purpose. But will have to be recognised as a key-subject.

only the actual effort to teach such a subject can reveal

how it may There is

best be taught. this to be added in

favour of the subject.

once a natural

interest, a cousin belonging to that family of interests which govern the crossword puzzle, acrostics and detective fiction. And It enlists at

a type of curiosity about words and their meanings that infants and primitive savages share with sophisticated philologists (very different from a psychological interest in the problem of meaning, and sometimes in with discretion. conflict with it), can also be engaged

Thus, although it would probably be wisest to begin with advanced classes in the Universities, it would be rash to say how far from the Elementary School we need in the end stop. The Decline in Speech. suggestion is that not enough to learn a language (or several

My

20. is

it

languages), as a

we must learn, how it works

man may inherit a business, too, how it works. And by

but that

'

learning

do not mean studying its rules of syntax or its grammar, or wandering about in its two inquiries that have hitherto lexicography diverted attention from the central issue. 1 I mean ',

1

I

There is no intention here to diminish the importance of grammar, is nowadays not overestimated by teachers, but rather to insist that grammar does not cover the whole subject of interpretation. which

SUMMARY

339

'

by learning how it works ', study of the kinds of meaning that language handles, their connection with one another, their interferences in brief, the ;

The parallel psychology of the speech-situation. with the case of a man inheriting a business can be followed a little further. Some generations ago, when

businesses were simpler and more separate, the owner could carry one on by rule of thumb or by a mere routine proficiency without troubling himself much about general industrial or economic conditions. It is not so now. Similarly, when man lived in small communities, talking or reading, on the whole, only about things belonging to his own culture, and dealing only with ideas and feelings familiar to his group, the mere acquisition of his language through intercourse with his fellows was better enough to give him a good command of it.

A

command, both a few

can

as speaker

and

listener,

happy persons can boast to-day.

be noticed

literature,

in

than any but

For a decline

perhaps every department of to the ephemeral Magazine.

from the Epic

The most probable

reasons for this are the increased (if they can still be so called, when there remains so little in common), and the mixtures of culture that the printed word has caused. Our everyday reading and speech now handles scraps from a score of different cultures. I am not referring here to the derivations of our words they have always been mixed but to the fashion in which we are forced to pass from ideas and feelings that took their form in Shakespeare's time or Dr Johnson's time to ideas and feelings of Edison's time or Freud's time and back again. More troubling still, our handling of these materials varies from column to column of the newspaper, descending from the scholar's level to the kitchen-maid's. The result of this heterogeneity is that for all kinds of utterances our performances, both as speakers (or size of

our

*

communities

'

340

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

and listeners (or readers), are worse than those of persons of similar natural ability, leisure and reflection a few generations ago. Worse in all four less faithful to the thought, less language functions, the with cruder in tone and discriminating feeling, defend ourselves more blurred in intention. from the chaos that threatens us by stereotyping and standardising both 'our utterances and our writers)

We

interpretations.

And

this threat, it greater as world

must be

insisted,

can only grow communications, through the wireless and otherwise, improve. If this decline and its explanation 21. Prose. are accepted, and I do not think many students either of literary history or of current sociology will

deny them, the moral is clear. A more conscious and deliberate effort to master language is imperative. Since mere practice under these conditions is- inWe sufficient, we must look to theory to help us. must make ourselves more aware of how the language we so much depend upon works. It is important to realise that these deficiencies in our use of words cripple prose quite as much as poetry. its direct means of conveying feelings

Poetry, with

and

its

meta-

phorical modes, suffers especially from certain types of misinterpretation, but prose, the prose of discussion, reflection and research, the prose by which we try to grapple intellectually with a too bewildering world, suffers quite as much from other confusions. Every interesting abstract word (apart from those that have been nailed down to phenomena by the

experimental sciences) is inevitably ambiguous yet use them daily with the pathetic confidence of children. A few terms in these pages have had some of their ambiguities displayed meaning, belief, sincerity, sentimentality, rhythm, understanding, and so forth but scores of others which deserve the same treatment have been used in apparent innocence,

we

SUMMARY

341

and no

fully satisfactory account of poetry can be forthcoming until their ambiguities have been ex-

posed.

But

a

more considered technique

of discussion has

Our opinions about poetry do a wider importance. not much differ in type from our opinions about many other topics and all such opinions are very ;

The* methods

have here tried be applied to of morals, political theory, logic, economics, questions metaphysics, religion and psychology, both for purposes of research and in higher education. Only by comparing a given opinion, or its verbal formula if liable to

ambiguity.

I

to apply to critical questions, have to

applied by many minds to many do we get an opportunity to observe its ambiguities and analyse them systematicBut this is an opportunity that we need no ally. Dread of the bewilderlittle hardihood to embrace.

you

like, as it is

different

matters,

that might ensue if we recognised and investigated the inevitable ambiguity of almost all verbal formulae is probably a strong reason for our general

ment

reluctance to admit it. For this is one of the most unpopular truths that can be uttered. Therefore, we hide it away as often as is possible, and make the most of those occasions in which the ambiguity of our speech is reduced to the minimum. So long as we stay in the realm of things which can be counted, weighed and measured, or pointed to, or actually seen with the eyes or touched by the

And beyond this realm, such fingers, all goes well. can be inferred from observations of as things measurable and touchable things, as the physicist infers his molecules and atoms, such things lend themselves to unambiguous discussion. And in yet a region, the region of ordinary conversation, with its vague meanings that are ruled by social

third

talk about sport, news, personalities and the rest

conventions

literature,

politics,

we manage moder-

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

342

and one

ately well, because our meanings are so large vague that they can hardly help engaging with

But

let such conversation improve (or the point of view varies), let an attempt degenerate, let the question be mooted at precision be made or whether so and so really is an intelligent in and intuitive what his intelligence or person, intuitiveness precisely consists or the question whether it really is right or not to pay different or the question kinds of work with different wages or the whether this or that poem is romantic question whether this or that composition is poetry or almost any of the questions discussed in these pages and another state of affairs soon appears. Before long we begin mistaking one another's to one another's posiunderstand ', failing points

another.

'

'

*

'

;

*

'

;

'

'

;

;

'

'

'

seeing no justification whatever for one another's assertions ', quite misconceiving one another's arguments ', utterly misrepresenting perfectly obvious matters of fact ', introducing barefaced equivocations into the discussion saying things that no honest and sensible person could possible mean ', and generally behaving like a mixed assembly of half-wits and scamps. The full situation, however, only develops if we are serious, sincere and pertinacious persons who are determined to see the discussion through to the end the only end which such discussions unfortunately can as yet attain. Ordinarily some degree of mental youth is needed if the full harvest of mutual misunderstanding is to tions

',

'

'

'

J

*

,

*

'

be garnered. More mature intelligences tend to retreat at an earlier stage and reserve the more exact statement of their opinions for other occasions. Even then, at a course of lectures, for example, or before the pages of a monograph, the ironical student of

communication finds occasion

to

indulge his per-

Let the listeners or the readers be suitably questioned, and again the old story has to

verted tastes.

SUMMARY

343

There can be few who have ever attempted expound any general subject with not had ample opportunity to have who precision admit that the satisfaction they gained from saying what they had to say must be offset by the pain of contemplating the other things which they have been

be

told.

by word

or pen to

supposed to have

am

If I

said.

overrating thesfe difficulties

it

is

to a less

degree than they are customarily and conventionally underrated. They increase in proportion as our effort towards wide and precise communication in-

and it is very necessary to find a means of avoiding them. I have written at length about this necessity elsewhere, and will not labour the point further here. The escape does not lie through the avoidance of abstract discussion or the relegation of such matters to specialists, for it is precisely the

creases,

who most

indulge in mutual misunderThe Meaning of Meaning, Chs. VI

specialists

standing (cf. and VIII). It does not lie in stricter definition of leading terms and a more rigid adherence to them solution of the problem raised militarist this is the that the fact people's minds do not all work alike. by It fails, because the other people cannot really be so easily persuaded to adopt our point of view. At the worst they will seem to. The only way out does, in fact, lie in the opposite direction, not in greater The mind that rigidity but in greater suppleness. can shift its view-point and still keep its orientation, that can carry over into quite a new set of definitions the results gained through past experience in other frameworks, the mind that can rapidly and without strain or confusion perform the systematic transformations required by such a shift, is the mind of the future. It may be objected that there are very few such minds. But have we ever attempted to *

train

them

'

?

The whole

receive at present

is

linguistic training we in the other direction, towards

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

344

supplying us with one or other of a number of frameworks of doctrine into which we are taught to force

all

the material

we would

handle.

This omnipresent ambiguity of abstract terms, when we reflect upon it, may well appear to present insuperable difficulties for the speculative apprehension of the world. Even the fundamental terms

by which we might seek

and limit these For mind, cause thing, equivocations betray and even datum, all on inspection event, time, space reveal varieties of possible and actual meanings. As *to define

us.

,

analysis proceeds, any coherent intellectual outlook will derive more and more from the order we can

maintain

among

distinctions that

become

increasingly

and intangible, and therefore more worddependent. With a confused or self-conflicting outlook it is not easy to live well, but many good minds abstract

are not in health to-day without

some general world-

picture.

This again, unless we can call in the theory of meanings to our help, is a condition which is more likely to grow worse than to improve, as the conceptions of present-day physics and psychology pass into the stream of general speculation. But certainly for most types of discussion and reflection the theory of meaning can help us. By pointing out the system-

much ambiguity or by tracing the for example, by preparing us of abstraction, process to distinguish between those philosophical utterances, which are really expressions of feeling, and statements that claim to be true, and by accustoming us to look not for one meaning but for a number of atic character of

*

related

'

meanings whenever we encounter troubleAnd even for this puzzling branch

some words. of the

study of interpretation,

not too education can be

exercises

difficult for practical application in

devised. It

may be thought

that these equivocations

among

SUMMARY

345

abstractions betray only philosophers, amateur or professional, and that, therefore, they are of no But it is not so. One has only to great moment. at glance any controversy proceeding in the correspondence columns of the weeklies and watch the proceedings of men of eminence and intelligence at for example, with the distinction between Prose and Poetry, or between Rhythm and Metre, to see clearly that even in simple discussions a better general technique for handling two or more definitions of the same word is badly needed. Without such a technique, confusion, or at best narrowness of outlook, is unavoidable. The habit of beginning a statement with Poetry is so and so ', instead of " " " as so and so"', with, 'I am defining poetry stultifies even the most constantly intelligent and determined efforts towards mutual understanding. It would be interesting to know how many persons who interest themselves in these matters can carry even grips,

'

*

'

three mutually incompatible definitions of poetry in their heads simultaneously. And, at least, three definitions

would be needed

for a satisfactory dis-

cussion of the differences between Prose and Poetry. Yet the trick of analysing them and the effort of memory required to carry them over intact are not more difficult than those involved in mental arithmetic. The difference that we all notice is grounded in the fact that we receive no systematic training in multiple definition, and so the required attitude towards words is hardly ever developed. At the

remains a temporary, instable, precarious attitude, and we succumb easily to the temptation of supposing our adversary to be in obvious error when, in fact, he may merely be using words for the moment in another sense from our own. 1 To the eye of an intelligence perfectly emancipated from best

it

'

'

1 This is not to say that error is not frequent. But we must know what is being said before we can convict it of error.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

346

words, most of our discussions would appear like the manoeuvres of three dimensional beings who for some reason believed themselves to exist only in two dimensions. 22. Critical

current

Partly for this attitudes to poetry

Fog.

reflective

reason our contain an

undue proportion of bewilderment. It is regarded too often as a mystery. There are good and evil or rather there is mystery and mysterymysteries mongering. That is mysterious which is inexplicable, or ultimate in so far as our present means of inquiry cannot explain it. But there is a spurious form of mysteriousness which arises only because our ex;

planations are confused or because we overlook or forget the significance of what we have already understood. And there are many who think that they are serving the cause of poetry by exploiting these diffithat every complex explanation presents. to are They perhaps under the impression that is this must mean to '. But explain explain away to show a poor respect for poetry. Since we no longer receive by tradition any proper introduction to it, explanations, when explanation is possible, are culties

'

'

*

At present, gross general misunderstandings are certainly poetry's worst enemies. And these needed.

confusions have been encouraged by those who like whole matter, and every detail of it, as an incomprehensible mystery because they suppose that this is a of But looking at it. way poetic muddled-mindedness is in no respectable sense poetic ', though far too many persons seem to think so. What can be explained about poetry can be and at innumerable separated from what cannot can us both to understand an points help explanation what kind of thing poetry in general is, and to understand particular passages. As to the truly mysterious that leaning of the will in virtue aspect of poetry to regard the

'

'

'

;

'

'

SUMMARY

347

of which we choose what we shall accept or reject we are not likely to approach an explanation within any foreseeable period And when the human intellect does reach a stage at which this problem is solved, there will perhaps be no need to fear this or any other result of investigation. ought by then to have learned enough about our minds to do with .

We

them what we

will.

1

This distinction between what 23. Subjectivity. can and what cannot be explained is not quite equivalent to the distinction between what can and what cannot be argued about profitably in criticism. A difference in opinion or taste may be due to a misunderstanding of the meaning of a passage on one side of the dispute or both. But it may be due to an opposition of temperaments, to some difference in the direction of our interests. If so, discussion may

perhaps make this difference clearer, but it is hardly We must admit that when our likely to bridge it. developing in opposed directions we cannot agree in our ultimate valuations and choices. Unless we are to become most undesirably standardised, differences of opinion about poetry must continue differences, not only between individuals, but between successive phases in the growth interests are

of the same personality.

As any

attitude

is

genuinely

It is instructive to conjecture what would be the major interests of such an infinitely plastic mind. Being, by hypothesis, able to become any kind of mind at will, the question 'What kind of mind and shall I choose to be?' would turn into an experimental matter the process of surveying and comparing the possibilities of experience from all the relevant different 'personalities' (with varying degrees of dominance of the intellectual, emotional, and active components perhaps, and with different degrees of projection, self-awareness, etc.) 1

;

would occupy much attention. Our present critical activities would compare with those of such a mind much as the physical conceptions and experimental technique of an Aristotle compare with these of an Eddington. We are still far from a General Theory of Critical Relativity, but at least we are reaching the point of knowing how much we shall soon come to need one.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

348

and enthusiastically taken up, it inevitably appears be the right attitude, and the perception that accompanies it seems sagacious, penetrating and to

Until, for obscure reasons, the mind illuminating. itself finds with different interests and a new changes, outlook. All emotional development, in an active mind that retains any remembrance of its past, must

appear a jerky and inconsequent process. What will be thought or felt next year seems uncertain, for what seemed fundamental last year seems to-day hardly worth notice. This is not a description of the neurotic temperament, but of the vigilant, living,

growing individual. But this shifting, because

living, basis for all literary responses does not force us, as some intellectual defeatists, misled by the word subjective ', '

suppose, to an agnostic or indifferentist position. Every response is subjective in the sense that it is a psychological event determined by the needs and resources of a mind. But this does not imply that one is not better than another. We may also grant that what is good for one mind may not be good for another in a different condition with different needs and in a different situation. Nevertheless the fundamental question of values, the better or worse, does not lose any of its significance. We have only shifted it to a clearer ground. Instead of an illusory problem about values supposed to inhere in poems which, after all, are only sets of words we have a real problem about the relative values of different states of mind, about varying forms, and degrees, of order in the personality. If you look deeply into the ultimate essentials of this art, you will find that " what is called " the flower has no separate existence. Were it not for the spectator who reads into the

may

'

'

*

performance" a thousand excellences, there would be no " flower at all. The Sutra says, " Good and ill are one villainy and honesty are of like kind ". ;

SUMMARY

349

Indeed, what standard have we whereby to discern good from bad ? We can only take what suits the need of the moment and call it good/ 1 One man's need is not another's, yet the question of values still remains. What we take we do indeed judge according to the need of the moment ', but the value of this momentary need itself is determined by its place among and its transactiortfe with our other needs. And the order and precedence among our needs incessantly changes for better or worse. Our traditional ideas as to the values of poetry given us automatically if poetry is set apart from life, or if poems are introduced to us from the beginning as either good or bad, as poetry or not poetry '

*

'

'

'

misrepresent the facts and raise unnecessary diffiIt is less important to like good poetry and dislike bad ', than to be able to use them both as a means of ordering our minds. It is the quality of the reading we give them that matters, not the correctness with which we classify them. For it is quite possible to like the wrong poems and dislike ones for reasons which are excellent. the right Here our educational methods are glaringly at fault, creating a shibboleth situation that defeats its purSo long as we feel that the judgment of pose. is a social ordeal, and that our real responses poetry to it may expose us to contempt, our efforts, even But after passing the gate, will not take us far. most of our responses are not real, are not our own, and this is just the difficulty. '

'

culties.

'

*

24. Humility.

judgments they

'

'

'

will, at

least,

specimens of contemporary Part II have no other uses, that those do us this service

If the

given in

:

who have little 1

read carefully through them will be for a while after less impressionable by literary

Seami Motokiyo (A.D. 1363-1444). Plays ofJapan, p. 22.

Quoted from Waley, The

Nd

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

350

judgments, however confidently or trenchantly expressed, less dogmatic, less uncharitable, less subject '

also to floating opinion.

I

know

not

how

it

is

',

'

wrote Matthew Arnold, but their commerce with the ancients appears to me to produce, in those who a steadying and composing judgment, not of literary works upon men and eVents in general. They are but of only, like persons who have had a very weighty and imthey are more truly than others pressive experience under the empire of facts, and more independent of

constantly practise

it,

their

effect

:

the language current

among

those with

whom

they

would be absurd to compare the effects minds of the masterpieces of antiquity our upon live

'.

It

with those that an attentive scrutiny of these scraps But there is an of literary opinion may produce. obverse aspect to every human achievement. And there is in the inner history of every opinion, if we can examine it and compare it with the other opinions it so narrowly missed becoming, a spring of ironical The confluence of many such rivulets comedy. might well have both a cleansing and a steadying '

and composing effect upon the judgment '. We might become less easily imposed upon by our fellows and by ourselves. Some discipline that will preserve us from these

twin dangers we badly need. As the finer parts of our emotional tradition relax in the expansion and dissolution of our communities, and as we discover how far out of our intellectual depth the flood-tide of science is carrying us so far that not even the giants can still feel bottom we shall increasingly need every strengthening discipline that can be devised. If we are neither to swim blindly in schools under the suggestion of fashion, nor to shudder into paralysis before the inconceivable complexity of existence, we must find means of exercising our power of choice. The critical reading of poetry is

SUMMARY an arduous discipline

more

the

;

351

few exercises reveal to us under which, from

limitations

clearly to moment,

moment

we

suffer.

But, equally, the

immense extension of our capacities that follows a summoning of our resources is made plain. The is that we have nothing to rely The our choices but ourselves. upon making lesson of good poetry se&ms to be that, when we have understood it, in the degree in which we can order ourselves, we need nothing more.

lesson of in

all

criticism

APPENDIX A Further Notes on Meaning. Function 2 (feeling) and Function 3 (tone) are probably more primitive than either Function i (sense), or the more deliberate explicit forms of Function 4 (intention). Originally language may have been almost pu r ely emotive ; that is to say a means of expressing feelings about situations (the danger cry), a means of i.

expressing interpersonal attitudes (cooing, growling, etc.), and a means of bringing about concerted action (compare the rhythmical grunts that a number of individuals will utter while Its use for statement as pulling together at some heavy object). a more or less neutral means of representing states of affairs, is ,

probably a

more

later

But

development. now than the

this

later

development

is

earlier forms, and we tend, when language, to take this use as the fundamental use. in a large degree our difficulty in distinguishing

familiar to us

we

reflect upon Hence perhaps

And when we are expressing feeling and clearly between them. tone in comparative purity we are usually not in a mood to make This

abstract inquiries into our uses of language.

is

another

difficulty.

If Sir Richard Paget's recent views are accepted, sense (the descriptive indication of states of affairs) would however be very primitive in language indeed. If we suppose, that is, that a great deal of speech from the beginning has been an equivalent by means of gestures (movements) made with the organs of speech

for descriptive gestures earlier we must admit that the sounds

made by the hands. Certainly and movements of many words

and phrases do seem even

still to correspond significantly with correspondence probably gives them an important power of bringing their sense concretely before our minds, of making us realise what they mean this realisation, however, being very largely an awakening of feelings. In much poetry as has often been remarked language tends to return towards a more primitive condition a word like iron, for example, exciting, in poetry, a set of feelings rather than

their sense.

And

this *

'

:

thoughts of the physical properties of that material, and a word like spirit evoking certain attitudes rather than ontological 7

353

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

354 reflections.

Hence Function

i,

as

we know

in its

it

developed

form

in strict prose discussion, frequently appears to lapse in Or it returns there to that vaguer kind of reference by poetry.

which we speak of This or That, not as objects having the properties by which, if challenged, we might in some science define them, but as objects of a kind towards which we have certain attitudes and feelings, or objects that have this or that effect upon us. This vagueness is very frequently misunderstood in It is due to a replacement of scientific classifications by poetry.

We

make use of external properties in classifications. place of internal properties the effects produced by objects on But these emotive us, instead of qualities inherent in the objects. Thus classifications are in their own way very strict and definite. incoherence in the thought of poetry, though it cannot be demonstrated by the same means as incoherence in a logical exposition, emotive

can be inquired into once we have grasped the principle at work. But thought governed by emotive classifications is still thought, and with words so used Function i (sense), though not in the More puzzling most obvious way, may still be dominant. situations arise when the whole aspect of words as conveying Let us take thought is either abrogated or subordinated.

How do you the case of complete abrogation of thought first. do ? as uttered on most occasions is an excellent example. It has ceased to be an inquiry and become a social ritual, its function being to adjust the tone of intercourse between two people. It is analogous on a small scale to the spirit-calming ceremonies with which the Japanese begin some of their greater rites. So is it *

'

Sir and Yours sincerely '. To a less degree, weather-talk and much conversation about current affairs fill the same need. In poetry, Function 2, rather than Function 3, is usually responsible for this abrogation, this reduction of what

with

'

Dear

'

*

The meaningless refrains of many looks like sense to nonsense. ballads are the obvious example subtler forms of Hurrah I and Alas I More usually the sense is negligible rather than nonsense such that though a scheme of sense could be given to the words it is not sufficiently relevant to make the effort worth while. Much diction in songs is of this kind, and it is not a demerit. *

Subordination

'

(as opposed to abrogation) of sense is nearly omnipresent in poetry. The poet makes a statement about something, not in order that the statement may be examined and reflected upon, but in order to evoke certain feelings, and when these are evoked the use of the statement is exhausted. It is idle and irrelevant to consider the statement further. This is a hard saying for those whose habit it is to look for inspiring messages in poetry, but this habit frequently leads to a profanation

of poetry.

APPENDIX

355

The frequent independence of poetry from what it says (Function i) is clearly shown in many odes, elegies and celebrations. Perhaps very little that is said in Dry den's Ode to the Pious Memory of the Accomplished Young Lady, Mrs Anne Killigrew, is true perhaps Dryden himself had in fact no such opinion of these accomplishments as he there expressed. Perhaps Milton was not thinking very closely about Edward King in composing Lycidas. Perhaps Burns when writing Ae Fond Kiss was only too glad to part from the lady for whom it was written. Perhaps neither Shelley nor Victor Hugo deserved in fact half what Swinburne wrote about them. But whether what was written was good or bad is unaffected by these doubts. The identity of the addressee is irrelevant to the poetry as poetry. As biography or as criticism it would be all important. This is not to say that a certain amount of knowledge about the addressees may not be useful to the reader in understanding the poet, but These it ought not to be used to condemn or to exalt the poem. remarks apply evidently to some of the comments on Poems IX ;

and XI. Taking now the converse case when Function 2 is subordinated to Function i. Whatever noble, elevated, moral or otherwise admirable sentiments may be explicitly stated by the poet, they are clearly not to be taken as proof of his lofty poetic stature. The reception of Poem I and some of the comments on Poems and XI may help to preserve us from this danger. It is easy to insist that our feelings are interesting, it is less easy to prove it. For if we It is easier to describe them than to present them. are to present them, a natural not an artificial form of utterance

V

We must not only state our feelings but express the fact that a poet is stating them is almost in itself suspicious at least it is with much Georgian verse of the anecdotal nature-description kind. A poet who is conscious of his feelings in a form in which he can describe them and analyse them is in some danger. Another step and he is mentally inside out, as so many contemporary intellectual emotionalists are. There is a big difference between controlling and conveying must be found.

them.

And

feelings

and talking about them.

2. Intention.

a more puzzling function than the admit the distinctions between sense, feeling and tone, but consider that between them they cover the uses of language, and that to speak of intention as a fourth additional

Intention

others.

function

may be thought

We may is

None

to confuse matters.

There

is

some

justification for

the less there are plenty of cases, especially in drama, in dramatic lyrics, in fiction which has a dramatic structure, in

this.

z*

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

356

some forms of

whether irony, in writings of the detective type of the order of Conan Doyle or of Henry James when this additional function may assist our analysis. Where conjecture, or the weight of what is left unsaid, is the writer's weapon, it seems unnatural to bring this under the heading of sense (or statement). The false trail or misleading hope may be due not to anything the writer has said or to any feelings he has expressed, but merely to the order and degree of prominence that he has given to various parts of his composition. And when we have admitted this, it is no long step to admitting that the form or construction or development of a work may frequently have a significance that is not reducible to any combination of our other three functions. This significance is then the author's intention.

a better way of showing how constantly intention controls the relations among themselves of the other three functions. have seen that to read poetry successfully we must constantly distinguish the case where sense is

But there

intervenes.

is

It

We

autonomous from the case when it is in subjection to feeling. Sometimes the sense is the most important thing in a line of Verses 1-5 verse, and our feelings take their quality from it.

X

of Poem may be instanced. What is said there, the sense, is the source of the feeling. But with verse 6, distortion, in the form of exaggeration, begins. Feeling is subordinating sense to its own ends. The distortion, provided we realise to some degree what is happening, then produces other reciprocal distortions in the feeling. These alternations in the precedence of sense and feeling we apprehend as a rule automatically, by an 1 acquired tact. may not explicitly remark them. If we had to describe them we might perhaps say that one verse was serious ', not quite serious another or But we do extravagant '.

We

*

*

'

'

certainly interpret them differently, and this subtle, extremely delicate variation in our modes of interpreting different passages is what I hope to bring out. Another example is provided by those worthy people who refuse to leave any utterance of Hamlet or Lear, however

of poetry

*

distraught ', without extracting some recondite philosophical import. Any indication of sense can be compared to a man and this question can be put by asking pointing to something whether we are to look at what he is pointing to or concentrate ;

our attention on his gestures. For example, in Pope's Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady, the poet's eye is very plainly on himself and on his reader rather than on the imaginary 1 Or as some would say, using a word which now has connections only an obfuscatory value, instinctively.' 4

in

these

APPENDIX

357

object, and the reader should follow him in this, otherwise such lines as So flew the soul to its congenial place, Nor left one virtue to redeem her race.

Cold

is

Thus,

if

the breast which

warmed

the

world

before,

and eternal Justice rules the ball,

Thus

shall your wives and thus your children fall all the line a sudden vengeance waits, And frequent hearses shall besiege your gates .

;

On

.

.

ought certainly to produce effects very unlike those which Pope intended. But examples are innumerable. Whether we proceed from the sense to the feeling or vice versa, or take them simultaneously, as often we must, may make a prodigious difference in the effect, altering not only the internal structure of the Total Meaning, but even such apparently unconnected features as the sound of the words. Of this last fact vaporous vitiate air ', the much disputed phrase from the last verse of Poem XI, may serve as an instance. '

What may appear piece of mouthing, the feeling relaxes,

climates

but even

to a first reading as a displeasing and atfected may as the first strain put upon the sense by

and the return effect of the notion of spiritual come to seem not only natural feeling develops inevitable as sound. It may, however, be more obvious

upon the

Poem 1 was interpreted by some readers primarily in terms of sense and by others primarily in terms of feeling, the divisions of opinion as to its merits being also determined by the way in which its tone was interpreted. The protocols of Poem VI supply further excellent material for tracing these variations. Sense, tone and feeling being there very exquisitely adjusted, clumsy reading has evident effects upon the apprehension both of meaning and form. that

Esthetic Adjectives.

3,

These

*

'

or projectile adjectives and their corresubstantives raise several extraordinarily sponding I can only indicate them here for even interesting questions. an outline discussion would require a whole volume. In so far as they register the projection of a feeling into an object they carry a double function at least and give rise to a systematic series of ambiguities. 1 may take such a word as beauty either as standing for some inherent property (or set of properties) in aesthetic

abstract

We

Hence arise those special difficulties in discussion labelled in The Meaning of Meaning (Ch. VI) as due to the Utraquistic Subterfuge. 1

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

358

or as standing for an emotive the object said to be beautiful the object in the class of things that (i.e., placing affect us in a certain way) ; or, thirdly, as expressing the occurrence of a certain feeling in the speaker. Obviously the word may very well be doing all three simultaneously. Which of them has priority in any case may depend upon the degree of reflection and the direction of sophistication in the speaker. ;

classification

It

may make

this linguistic situation clearer if

three examples that us take pleasant first.

show

Few

we compare

different degrees of projection. Let would maintain that all pleasant things

possess any peculiar property in common, except that of causing (under suitable conditions) pleasure in suitable persons. The tendency to projection here though the grammatical form supports it is slight. We all agree that when we say this is (to me, pleasant we might equally well say this is pleasing as I am, and to folk like me in these conditions), without any consciousness of a change of meaning. And correspondingly we agree easily that what may be pleasant on one occasion may not be pleasant on another or to a different person. Now consider pretty. If we say that something or someone is pretty, we do seem to be doing more than merely saying that we are affected by it or her in a certain fashion. Pretty things do seem to have some property in common that is perhaps peculiar to them, though it is extremely hard to discover what it can be that can belong in common to landscapes, kittens, book-bindings, geisha and tunes, and to nothing that is not pretty. Moreover, what seems pretty as a rule goes on seeming pretty to us. If the thing remains the same itself, no very obvious changes in the mere conditions, provided we can still attend to it, suffice to make All this shows that the projection in it seem no longer pretty. None the this case is much more pronounced and more stable. less, if challenged, few people would maintain that there is in fact an objective, inherent quality or property, namely prettiness, *

*

'

'

which belongs to certain things quite apart from their effects upon our minds, a quality that, as it were, independently makes them pretty. The very termination -ness (compare pleasantness

,

prettiness, loveliness, ugliness, attractiveness), is, perhaps, a slight indication too, but not one to be relied upon, of the middle stage

at

which the projection remains.

A

further degree of projection

is

found with

beautiful.

Half

proof that we find it not to believe that some simple or complex

at least of the literature of aesthetics is a

exceedingly difficult property does in fact reside in all the things however different that we correctly call beautiful. in other respects they may be And this inherent property, Beauty, is, we tend to think, independent of any effects .upon our minds or other minds and

APPENDIX

359

unaffected by changes in us. Similarly, though with some slight but curious difference, with sublime (sublimity) and holy (holiness). Four stages of relative naivety or sophistication may be remarked The least sophisticated in our handling of this word beauty. view assumes that, of course, things are beautiful or not in themselves just as they are blue or not blue, square or not square A less naive view plunges to the other extreme and regards beauty ,

*

altogether subjective ', as perhaps merely equivalent to still more sophisticated view pleasing to the higher senses '. ' reconstructs again as a counterblast to this subjective view a doctrine of real inherent objective tertiary qualities, giving it a complex philosophical and logical scaffolding and perhaps venturing some provisional formula as a description of this unity in variety ', property logical necessity in structure ', 1 easeful to the ', and so forth. apprehension Lastly proportions a perhaps still more sophisticated view reduces this formula to something so vague and general that it ceases to be useful as an instrument for investigating differences between what is said to be beautiful and what is not. For example, if we define beautiful as

A

*

'

'

'

',

'

as I suggest for this such that it arouses,

purpose we might, as having properties under suitable conditions, tendencies to '

(or something more elaborate of self-completion in the mind this kind), beauty ceases to be the name of any ascertainable property in things. It is still objective, it is still the property in virtue of which the beautiful thing does arouse these tendencies. But we cannot take these beautiful things and look to see what

they have in common, for in fact they need have nothing in (if the conditions are dissimilar) beyond this purely abstract property of being such as to arouse, etc.' In each case there will be some account that can be given as to how the thing is beautiful, but no general account will be possible. (Compare the case of the word lovable. In each case we can perhaps point to characters which explain why the thing is loved, but we cannot give any general account of the common and peculiar properties that all lovable things possess those they all share and which nothing not lovable possesses.) This last view clearly does away with our traditional notion of Beauty as an august embodied principle or power inherent in beautiful things, and those who hold it will be thought by many to be cut off by their barren and materialistic logic-chopping ? from a natural source of inspiration. (Similarly materialists are frequently supposed to be debarred from the appreciation and use of spiritual values.) But this is a result of a mistaken theory of poetry and a confusion of poetry with science. It brings us back to the point at which we started the use of projectile

common

'

*

*

'

language.

'

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

360

When we

utter the word Beauty or when we read it, we may, we have seen, be making any one of at least three distinct uses. We may be using it for either of two kinds of senses, or to express feeling. Whatever view we take philosophically as to the as

status of beauty as an inherent objective quality or as to the process of projection, we are not (this is a fact of observation

not a theoretical position) necessarily deprived of our capacity it as though it stood for such an objective quality, and to enjoy all the advantages that derive from this usage. It is difficult for those who have long been accustomed to the idea of beauty as a projected quality to recall the chill and dismay with which a first acquaintance with this account may be received. Yet much of the opposition to psychological aesthetics has this emotional origin, and it is important to insist that the first numbing effect wears off. (Similarly with those who feel that it is more ' the poetic to regard poetry as a mystic, inexplicable power feeling can be retained after the obscurantism has been rejected.) Even though we hold firmly that there is no inherent general quality beauty we can still use the word as though there were. The effects upon our feelings will be the same, once the initial shock of the mental operation by which we recognise the fact of projection has passed away. And it is the same with all the rest of our projectile language. Happily for otherwise the effect of investigation here would be not only to destroy poetry but to wreck our whole emotional life. to use

1

;

'

'

In some minds, perhaps some such danger is to be feared minds in which too close a dependence of feelings upon notions has developed, minds without sufficient intellectual suppleness, and cut off from the natural sources of emotion and attitude. But this problem has been discussed in Chapters V and VII.

Rhythm and Prosody.

4.

In a recent authoritative work (What is Rhythm ? by E. A. Sonnenschein) the following definition of rhythm is recommended: Rhythm is that property of a sequence of events in time which produces in the mind of an observer the impression of proportion between the durations of the several events or groups of events of which the sequence is composed/ (p. 16.) A serious objection may be brought against this type of The property so defined may not be an internal definition. *

property of the sequence at all. The impression of proportion may be due to no character of the object which is regarded as rhythmical but to some other cause. As some of the phenomena of opium, nitrous oxide and hashish dreams show, a single stimulus may give rise to a most definite impression of rhythm. And, to take a less extreme example, it is a common phenomenon,

APPENDIX

361

noticeable constantly in connection with verse, for the rhythm attributed to a sequence to be determined less by the configuration of the sequence than by other factors external to it in poetry the meanings of the words. It may be granted that usually when * some a rhythm is attributed to a sequence by some observer the durations of the in the between several events proportion' sequence can be found. But it is doubtful, to say the least, whether study of the details of these proportions is very useful if the impressions of proportipn they produce are only in part *

*

due to them. Professor Sonnenschein seems himself

to

go some way towards

'

What we are concerned with admitting this when he says (p. 35) in all manifestations of rhythm is not so much a physical fact as a psychological fact i.e., the impression made by the physical fact upon the mind of man through the organs of sense '. objection is that he does not make the fact we are concerned with psychological enough. The processes we have discussed under the heading The Apprehension of Meaning enter, I believe, as important factors in the formation of the impression, though, of course, they do not wholly determine it. The impression is :

My

a

compromise. In any case it is surely the relations of the ascribed rhythm to the meaning (in its various forms) that is of interest to the student of poetry, not the characters of the ascribed rhythms in And though these relations can be felt this respect or that. (they are,

of course, psychological

relations,

correspondences

between different systems of activity in the mind), and in all good reading of good poetry they are felt continuously, it is hard to see how any description of the characters of rhythms, such as prosodists could supply, could be of any assistance in the matter.

To

suppose that we can ever

intellectually observe the relation of

rhythm to a meaning in any example that is poetically interesting, and with the degree of nicety that would be required if our

a

observations were to be useful or provide a basis for a scientific

For is, I believe, to be unwarrantably optimistic. apart from the difficulties of measuring the ascribed rhythm, we should need also in some way to measure the meaning. To study rhythm in poetry apart from meaning, since meaning is undoubtedly the controlling factor in the poet's choice of the rhythmical effects he will produce, seems from this point of view an enterprise of doubtful value. None the less, certain general effects of rhythms, mentioned in Principles, Ch. XVII, seem worth And as a means of indicating to absent persons how attention. certain verses may be read, prosody has an obvious function. But even this will soon perhaps be made obsolete by wireless and the gramophone. And to distinguish the differences in the

generalisation,

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

362

rhythms to be ascribed, for example, to different types of blank but whether verse is, of course, a valuable accomplishment instruction in prosody can really enable anyone to do this who could not do it without (or with only the most obvious notation) If prosody is only a means of directing is also questionable. a reader's attention to the formal features of verse, then clearly it long ago reached a stage of development sufficient for this purpose, and further researches are not required. But if it is ;

hoped that some Between what is

*

correlation

may be

established,

we may

ask

hold and what reasons are This question seems to have been strangely there to expect it ? neglected, and there has perhaps here been a confusion between the two senses of law. Indeed it seems possible that the terribly laborious studies of modern prosodists may in time to come be placed among the curious displays of misdirected intelligence and great ability that the history of science so often presents. Cette page nuira de plus d'une fagon au malheureux auteur,' There may however be other as Stendhal was fond of saying. persons as much in need of instruction as the writer instruction as to the precise goal or purport of the labours of so many this correlation to '

*

distinguished men. 5.

Visual Images.

The word so that

fashion

*

'

has been given a metaphorical extension often used for to think of something in any concrete There is no harm in this, of course, unless it leads us visualise

'

it is '.

suppose that we cannot think concretely without using visual or other images. But in fact it is possible, for many people, to think with the utmost particularity and concreteness and yet to make no use of visual images at all. Sometimes other, non-visual, imagery is being used instead. Many people think they are using visual imagery when, in fact, if they examined the matter to

more closely, they would discover that kinaesthetic imagery of movements of the eyeballs has taken its place. But it is also possible to think concretely without any imagery of any kind, or at least (for this point is disputed) without imagery corresponding at all closely to what is being thought of. (This point is not

disputed.) The imagery we use (if we do use any) may be very sketchy, vague and incoherent, yet our thought may be rich, detailed and coherent. 1

Dogmatic assertions to the contrary are common. 'Thus in reading poetry one of the first necessities is to visualise, to see clearly every picture as it is presented by the poet. Without visualising the poet's words the reader in no sense has before him that which the poet had at the time of writing. Nor can he in any full sense share 1

APPENDIX

363

this point are chiefly due to a too for idea of is mental representation. Images, what simple necessary we may think (and traditionally psychologists, too, have thought) must be required, if absent sights and sounds and so forth are to be represented in our minds because images are the only things sufficiently like sights and sounds and so forth to represent them.

Confusion and prejudice on

;

But this is to confuse representation with resemblance. In order that a may represent it is not necessary for a to resemble or be a copy of in any whatever. It is enough if a has

A

A

A

respec^ the same effect upon us, in some respect, as Obviously a and here have both the effect of making us utter the same sound if we read them out and they have other effects in common. This is in outline the way in which words represent things. In order that a word should represent a thing the word cow represents a cow it is not necessary that it should call up an it is enough if it excite any image of a cow that is like a cow considerable set of those feelings, notions, attitudes, tendencies to action and so forth that the actual perception of a cow may This clearly is a more general sense of representation excite. 1 which includes representation in the sense of being a copy as a special case. Words on the whole now, however it may have been in the

A

A

.

;

'

*

*

*

'

J

The writer's his emotion.' J. G. Jennings Metaphor in Poetry, p. 82. intention here is excellent, we must read poetry receptively, but his of psychology is insufficient. knowledge 1 The most fundamental sense of representation (or meaning) is, I believe, different from this, which may, however, serve sufficiently well to indicate the case against the copy theory of representation. (And against Wittgenstein's principle, for example.) What is given above is, roughly, Mr Bertrand Russell's (1921) view of representation. own view is that a word The Analysis of Mind, pp. 210, 244. represents a thing, not by having similar effects to the thing, but by His view, in brief, was having things of that kind among its causes. in terms of 'causal efficacy,' mine in terms of causal origin. In his

My

Outline of Philosophy (1927), however, Mr Russell combines both theories (p. 56) with a distinction between active meaning, that of a man uttering the word, and passive meaning, that of a man hearing He suggests that Mr Ogden and myself in writing The the word. Meaning of Meaning neglected passive meaning. I think this is a misunderstanding, but we do consider active meaning the more fundamental of the two, since it explains much in passive meaning and because consideration of it throws more light upon the growth and development of language. Incidentally we cannot accept Mr It says that a word and its meaning Russell's summary of our view have the same causes'. It says, on the contrary, that the meaning is the cause of the word, in a not quite usual sense of cause'. (Cf. The '

:

*

Meaning of Meaning 2nd Ed., p. 55.) The two accounts need not be They yield, however, two distinct kinds of meaning incompatible. >

and

it

may on

occasion be very important to separate them.

PRACTICAL CRITICISM

364

remote past, do not resemble the things they stand for. None in the form of onomatopoeia and, more important perhaps, tongue and lip gesture can be noticed. We can grant some part of the effect of words in poetry to these resemblances if we are careful not to overwork them. For the representative and evocative power of words comes to them more through not resembling what they stand for than through resembling it. For the very reason that a word is not like its meaning, it can represent an enormously wide range of different things. Now an image (in so far as it represents by being a copy) can only represent things that are like one another. A word on the other hand can equally and simultaneously represent vastly different It can therefore effect extraordinary combinations of things. A word is a point at which many very different feelings. the less traces of resemblance

or unite. Hence its dangers in prose treacherousness for careless readers of poetry, but hence at the same time the peculiar quasi-magical sway of words in the hands of a master. Certain conjunctions of words through their history partly and through the collocations of emotional influences that by their very ambiguity they effect have a power over our minds that nothing else can exert or influences

may

discussions and

cross

its

perpetuate. It is easy to be mysterious about these powers, to speak of the inexplicable magic of words and to indulge in romantic reveries about their semantic history and their immemorial past. But it is better to realise that these powers can be studied, and that what criticism most needs is less poeticising and more detailed '

*

analysis

and

investigation.

APPENDIX B THE RELATIVE POPULARITY OF THE POEMS THE following figures (given in percentages) are rough estimates only, no precision being, under these conditions, attainable. No reliance should be placed in them and they are intended only as an indication of the voting. In any case, since the reasons for liking and disliking the poems are so various, no numerical estimate could have

Poem

M

much

significance.

Non-committal.

Favourable.

Unfavourable.

I

45

37

II

1

43

6

28

5

18

///

30

42

IV

53

42

5

V

52

35

13

I0

VI

1

59

VII

54

3

1

VIII

19

66

15

IX

48

41

ii

X

37

36

27

XI

31

42

27

44

33

23

5

92

3

3

365

15

APPENDIX C AUTHORSHIP OF THE POEMS Poem

I.

From

by PHILLIP JAMES BAILEY (1816-1902).

Festus,

Published in 1839. II. Spring Quiet (1847), by CHRISTINA ROSSETTI (18301894). The word go (as the third word in the third line) was accidentally omitted in the version given to the writers of the protocols.

Poem

'

Poem HI.

JOHN

DONNE

'

(1573-1631).

Holy

Sonnets

VII.

Probably composed in 1618. The modernised spelling was adopted in the interests of the experiment.

From More Rough Rhymes of a Padre by the Rev. G. A. STUDDERT KENNEDY (" Woodbine Willie "). Published by Hodder & Stoughton.

Poem IV.

,

A reference to the War in the first line of the second verse, which runs "

in the original

But

:

there's winter of

was disguised by me, and a

war

in the evening,"

verse

fifth

was omitted.

greatly in debt to the author, who wrote : any of my poems for any purpose you like.

"

I

am

You can use The criticisms

of them could not be more adverse and slaughterous than my own would be."

Poem V.

From The Harp-Weaver (1924), by EDNA ST VINCENT By permission of Messrs Harper & Brothers.

MILLAY.

Poem VI.

Spring and Fall, to a young child (1880), by GERARD (1845-1889). By permission of Mr

MANLEY HOPKINS Humphrey Milford.

Poem VII. The Temple from Parentalia and other Poems, by J. D. C. PELLEW. The author wrote in reply to my request " It is to be allowed to use this poem to know " pleasant that I am serving the cause of science By permission of Mr Humphrey Milford. :

!

367

APPENDIX

Piano, by D. H. LAWRENCE. From Collected Poems By permission of Mr Martin Seeker.

Poem VIII. (1928).

Poem IX. ALFRED

368

For the Eightieth Birthday of George Meredith, by No YES. I took the version used from the anthology

Shorter Lyrics of the Twentieth Century (1900-1922), selected Mr W. H. Davies. The final version (see p. 119) is Sons. published by Messrs Wm. Blackwood

by

Poem X.

&

in Cambridge Poetry, An Anthology Published by W. Heffer & Sons.

By G. H. LUCE,

(1900-1913).

Poem XL George Meredith (1828-1909), by THOMAS HARDY. By permission of Messrs Macmillan & Co. Poem XII. CHILDE.

Poem XIII.

From

Ivory Palaces (1925),

by WILFRED ROWLAND

Published by Messrs Kegan Paul

& Co.

In the Churchyard at Cambridge, by HENRY WADSCambridge, Massachusetts, of course.

WORTH LONGFELLOW.

APPENDIX C AUTHORSHIP OF THE POEMS The

reader

acquainted

Appendix

is

advised not to

with

the

until Part II has

369

make himself

contents

of

this

been studied.

INDEX lus,

Discussion, technique of, Doctrinal adhesion, 16. Doctrine, 71.

271.

Alpinism, 122. Ambiguity, 34-45-

American Language,

Donne,

28, 115, 167.

271.

Doyle, Conan, 356. Drinkwater, 233. Dryden, 19, 176, 206, 279, 355

Aristotle, 12.

Arnold, Matthew, 350. Assumption, 273-75Bain, A., 257. Beautiful," 221, 357-60, Behaviourism, 322, 323. Belief, 185, 271, 300. Belief, Intellectual versus

Eddington, 225. Edison, 339. Eliot, T. S., 285, 318.

"

Emotive functions, 210, Emotive reading, 129.

emotional,

English, teaching Euripides, 271,

274-77.

Bergson, 255, 268.

Evans Wentz,

Blake, 164, 272, 302. Blood, B. P., 13Bradley, A. C., 188. Brooke, Rupert, 73, 79.

W.

of,

Browne, Sir Thomas, Browning, 65, 73, 78, 85, 88, 150. Bubis, 177. Burns, 60, 355. Butler, Bishop, 153. Butler, Samuel, 166. Byron, 258, 262.

333-35-

Y., 7, 235.

Galileo, 299.

Gautama Buddha,

253, 323.

Genius, 249.

Grammar,

36, 337, 338.

Cacophony, 135.

Gray, 206, 252, 265.

Carroll, Lewis, 140. Chemistry, 158.

Grenfell, Julian, 27.

Habitual responses, 241. Sir H., 106,

Chinese Poetry, 1 36. Coleridge, 199, 272, 277, 3 2 3Colour, 124.

Hadow,

Hardy, 253, 271.

Hemans, Mrs, 166. History of Criticism,

Common

sense, 197. Confucius, 279, 284, 292, 323. Concentration, 173, 20O, 214.

Construing, 14, 76, 3 12

Homer, 272. Honours Degree,

-

morals,' 179,

4.

Hopkins, C. M., 292.

Cowper, 176. *

8.

Hobbes, 179.

Conrad, 325.

190,

*9 6

>

Housman, A. E., Hugo, Victor, 28,

201,

267, 295.

58, 141.

355.

Hutchinson, A. S. M., 88. Huxley, Aldous, 88.

Critical superstitions, 299.

Dante, 271.

Decimal numbering,

353.

Fatigue, 317. Feeling, 181, 209, 326, 329-32. Flecker, 6 1. Form, 14, 55, 217, 233, 300. P'reud, 204, 322, 339.

88.

Critical

5-

Ibsen, 88. Idea, 247.

22.

Decline in speech, 338-40. Definition, 217, 219, 343 345-

Imagery,

15,

49.

96,

124,

139, 168, 235-37, 247.

Dictionary, 327. 873

I2<

INDEX

374 Immaturity, 310.

Obscurity, 63, 74, 82, 85, 141, 166.

Influenza, 257. Inhibition, 16, 43, 267. Intention, 181, 204, 205, 326, 355'57-

Ogden, C. K., 363.

6.

Interpretation, Intrinsic character of words, 134,

Onomatopoeia, 135. Originality, 206. Origin of stock responses, 245-49.

138,

Paget, Sir Richard, 353. Paraphrase, 191, 216, 223. Pathetic fallacy, 95, 139, 157.

173-

Introspection, 217. Intuition, 191, 287.

Patmore Coventry,

149.

James, Henry, 356. James, William, 274. Japanese gardening, 40.

Pavlov, 286. Personal emotion, 147.

G., 363. Johnson, Dr, 127, 153, 206, 253, 339.

Phatic communion, 185, 318.

Jennings,

Personification, 198.

J.

Judgment and

choice, 301.

Pieron, 302. Poetic diction, 160. Poetic fictions, 272-74. Political speeches, 185. Pope, 176, 204, 208, 251, 356. Preconceptions, 17, 148, 300, 314. Prejudice, 93, Pretty,' 220.

Keats, 28, 68, 69, 73, 84, 176, 238.

King Chien Kim, 283. Kipling, 143. Kissing, 257.

Landor, 279. Lamartine, 60. Latin verse, 226. Lawrence, D. H., 113, 115. Legge, James, 279, 283.

1

Profundity, 221, 222. Projectile adjectives, 211, 220, 357-60.

Projection, 199, 211, 220, 229. Prose, 340.

Literalism, 191.

Logic, 149, 187, 217, 273. Longfellow, 166, 168.

Love,

Prosody, 361-62. Prudential speech, 324. Psychical relativity, 213. Psychology, 321-333. Psychology, prejudice against, 322. Psychology, uselessness of, 321.

falling in, 156.

Lucretus, 271. Lyall, L. A., 283. Lynd, Robert, 27.

Mackail, 188. Marvell, 64.

Maudlin

Piaget, 199, 324. Pierce, C. S., 271.

Rapture, 147. Read, Herbert, 285. Reviewing, 5.

states, 257.

Rhymes, Rhythm,

Meaning, 7, 43, 180, 237, 300. Mechanical inventions, 320. Mental navigation, II.

Metaphor, 97, 107, 221-23. Metaphor, mixed, 140, 193-98. Metre, 24, 26, 48, 109, 112, 158, 170, 190, 225-34. Milton 46, 49, 73, '33. 232, 316, 355. Misunderstanding, 130, 189, 329, 337,

33, 34, 44, 84.

58, 66, 77, 89, 140, 225-34 318, 360-62. Rhythm defined, 227. Ritual, 290. Romantic, 28, 29, 56, 60, 139. Rossetti, Christina, 149. Rossetti, D. G., 68. Rousseau, 282.

Ruskin, 204.

346.

Mnemonic

irrelevances,

15,

107, 131, 174, 237. Morality, 37, 174. Music, 105, 107 127.

27,

59,

Russell, Bertrand, 256, 324, 363.

Sampson, G., 334. Seami, Motokiyo, 252, 349. Schiller, 323.

Narcissism, 17, 251.

Nashe, *

Need

1 '

68.

defined, 275, 286.

Newton, 336. Nobility, 22.

Self-abasement, 17. Semantics, 210, 219. Sense, 181, 209, 326. Sentimental, as abuse, 255. Sentimental, and past experience, 261.

INDEX Sentimental, as qualitative, 259. Sentimental, as quantitative, 257, 268, Sentimental, and the war, 260. Sentimentality, 16, 27, 53, 55, 57, 61, 88, 105, 109, 112, 114, 116, 300.

Sentimentality, cure of, 270. Sex differences, 311. Shakespeare, 3, 26, 28, 44, 143, 157, 212, 250, 339. Shelley, 26, 28, 57, 121, 131, 137, 140, 142, 147, 156, 176, 208, 238, 271, 316. Sincerity,

56,

57,

77,

114,

94,

170,

280-91, 300, 301. Sincerity and self-completion, 285. Sincerity and self-deception, 280. Sincerity and sophistication, 280. Slow reading, 234. Sonnenschein, E. A., 360-61. Sonnet form, 45, 75, 76, 77, 127. Southcott, Joanna, 169. Spencer, Stanley, 49. Spinoza, 274. Standardisation, 248, 340, 347. Statement, 186, 296, 353. Stendhal, 156, 328. Stevenson, R. L., 143, 292. Stock Responses, 15, 99, 101, 108, 121, 128, 131, 163 240-54, 313. Stock Rhythms, 243. Stout, 322. Style, 207, 233. Subject, 58, 263, 297, 298. Subjectivity, 347. Swinburne, 64,

no,

129,

158,

375

Technical presuppositions, 16, 34, 47, J 134, 5i) 171, 172, 264, 294-

W

96.

Ten

critical difficulties, 13-17, 179.

Theology, 44, 47. Thoroughness, 4. Thought, 249, 329-30. Tone, 181, 206, 326. Tradition, 315.

Turner, 134.

Unconscious fright, 45. Unconscious technique, 186, 190. Understanding, 13, 67, 81, 93, 213, 324-29. Uselessness of principles, 296, 298.

Versatile Verses, 23. Vigney, Alfred de, 94. Virgil, 270. Visualisation, 132, 235-37, 362-64.

Wagner, 155. Walcy, Arthur, 252, 349. Ward, 322. Watson, 323. Wilcox, Klla Wheeler,

3,

Wordsworth, 25, I43

I5>

I5 8

26, 60, J

194,

Symbolism, 155? 15^*

PRINTFn

GRKAT BRITAIN KY AND II YOUNG STREK1, KDINUURGH

IN

PRESS, 9

79, 99,

76, 199, 259.

208, 265.

THE EDINBURGH

207, 316.

Wittgenstein, 363.

137